


Eternal Winter

by EruditePrincess1993



Category: The 100 (TV), The 100 Series - Kass Morgan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Pre-Canon, Anya Lives, Arranged Marriage, Canon-Typical Violence, Comfort Sex, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, F/F, Fix-It of Sorts, Friends With Benefits, Grounder Culture - Freeform, Lexa Lives, Luna lives, Minor Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin, Minor Bryan/Nathan Miller, Minor Roan/Echo, Minor Wells Jaha/Raven Reyes, POV First Person, Past Clarke Griffin/Lexa, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rape, Roan Lives, Season/Series 03, Stockholm Syndrome, Torture, Wells Jaha Lives
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-07
Updated: 2017-08-06
Packaged: 2018-09-30 13:09:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 27,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10163705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EruditePrincess1993/pseuds/EruditePrincess1993
Summary: “I lost someone special to me too. Her name was Costia. She was captured by the Ice Nation whose Queen believed knew my secrets. Because she was mine, they tortured her, killed her, cut off her head.” In which Queen Nia comes to the conclusion that killing her would be a waste due to the black blood flowing in her veins. Having sent a disfigured and battered head to make Lexa and Trikru think that she died, Nia has Costia groomed to be a soldier for the royal guard and forces her to recreate her identity. Now, five years later, under the name Eirwen and married to Roan, she travels to Polis with him and Ontari for the Conclave after news of Lexa’s death reaches Azgeda.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> I was debating whether to make this a Wellstia or a Lostia AU, but ultimately decided on the latter as 3B could have gone a fascinating direction yet still maintaining the A.L.I.E/CoL storyline. This will be told through both present and flashback form. Conversations in Trigedasleng are indicated in italics.
> 
> Note: This Lostia fic might be unconventional given it has Bellarke as a background pairing unlike most, where it’s future Clexa. Give that it takes place in 3B (and well into s4) with flashbacks, most of everything that happened before this story took place as usual. Though it has the same worldbuilding as my Wellstia fics, where it’s been two hundred years after ninety-seven years and not all the Nightbloods are trained to for the Conclave.

The soles of my boots touch the cracked concrete as I descend the carriage after Roan. The frigid February wind bites my face. The marks on my forehead tingling from the cold. Looking at the sky, it has a beautiful orange and gold hue from the early twilight. I have forgotten how beautiful the sunsets were here.

            My eyes scale the Commander’s Tower towards the top. It’s trademark flame gone. It only confirms what we have been told: that the Commander has died and that it will not light aflame until the conclusion of tomorrow’s Conclave.

            I close my eyes and let the tears run down my cheeks. All those years, she thought I was dead and the devastating part was that she died thinking I died. That I was waiting for her in some form of afterlife.

            A hand touches my shoulder. I don’t have to look to see who it is.

            “Are you okay?” he asks me.

            I didn’t want to come originally. I wanted to hide in the palace back in Azgeda and spend that time with Ermine. That the company of my infant daughter was more preferable. However, I thought it was best for my mental health and come here with my husband and Ontari. Though I plan on returning to Azgeda just before the Conclave begins.

            If Roan and I were alone, I would have fallen into his arms as a sobbing heap. Though that wouldn’t be possible with Ontari and our guards with us.

            A Queen has to appear strong to her subjects. Though I wonder if Nia confused strength with cold-hearted indifference before her death.

            I turn to look at Roan, putting on my stony façade, and say, “I am okay, Roan. I just need to provide myself some closure.”

            He narrows his eyes, like he’s skeptical of my words. He knows me so well.

            Ontari steps forward and stands beside me. “When I become Commander, I will allow you to get the closure you want,” she offers. “They might not allow it now but once I win, you will be able to carry it out without repercussions.”

            The image of my sword slicing Titus’s neck and watching as the blood pours from his neck replays in my mind. It has tempted me ever since we received the news that Lexa died due to “his negligence.” As gratifying as it would be though, in good conscience I will not do it. Not only because he’s the sole Flamekeeper.

            It’s mainly because Lexa wouldn’t want that for me.

            “I appreciate the offer, Ontari,” I say, turning to look at her. “However, since he’s the only Flamekeeper, it will not be the wisest thing to do.”

            Ontari shrugs. “If he disposes himself, I wouldn’t be surprised,” she theorizes. “No matter.”

            Killing himself? Interesting, but given his disdain for Azgeda, I wouldn’t be surprised if he does himself before he inserts the flame in Ontari’s neck. Before my capture, I have heard him say that if he was given the choice of giving the Flame to someone from Azgeda versus death, he would gladly take the latter.

            Again, Ontari lacks two of the three pillars of the Commander. Titus would see her as unfit anyway.

            “The Purification Ritual is underway shortly,” Roan points out. “If we need to make ourselves known, now is the time.”

            The Purification Ritual. It’s where the novitiates pour handfuls of powder on the cloth that the body of the deceased Commander is wrapped in and the ambassadors observe it. I am hoping that Anya doesn’t recognize me, though it would be hard to hide something obvious from her.

            It would give me another reason to flee back to Azgeda tomorrow at dawn before the Conclave begins.

            Roan offers his arm to me and I take it. The two of us approach the main door with Ontari right behind us. With Echo and Yaxley following closely behind.

 

* * *

 

            Nothing would change in between the Commander’s. Five years nonetheless. Though that doesn’t prevent the corridors from giving me a eerie feeling as we walk down them. As the floors echo under our feet. As if the place is frozen time. Just waiting for my arrival to change it.

            It doesn’t help that the blood is pounding in my ears and that a knot is tied in my stomach. Tightening as we continue on.

            When we reach the double doors to the throne room, it’s like the blood wants to burst from it’s veins and the tightened knot in my stomach snaps apart. I could feel the sweat collect on my palms.

            The guards at the doors stand in attention. Alerted by our presence, like we were unexpected visitors.

            “ _Hod op_ ,” they tell us.

            Roan’s arm disconnects from my own and he starts at the door. “Out of our way,” he demands. Pushing the doors open, he is the first to enter followed by Ontari and I. My legs feel like gelatin, though I resist the urge to fall down.

            The ambassadors and novitiates turn to glance at us and one could hear the word _Azgeda_ muttered throughout the room. My eyes don’t focus on them but the linin wrapped body that’s lying on the table before the throne.

            I feel the tears prick from my eyes and I have half the mind to go over there to uncover her face. just to see her one last time and kiss her forehead. Though I fight that urge. Never again will I run my fingers through her mahogany hair. Never again will I look into those emerald irises that took my breath away every time I looked into them. Never again will I kiss her sweet lips.

            “You,” Ontari hisses in rage. I look to see her glaring at a blonde girl who’s standing next to one of the novitiates. When she lunges at the girl, I grab her elbows to stop her. Ontari drags me to the ground as she lunges forward and my sweaty hands lose my grip. My knees throb as I roll to my side before Roan offers his hand.

            A knife is removed from its sheath.

            “No,” I hear Titus say as I stand on my feet. Ontari is on her knees with a knife poised up in stabbing position. Her hand restrained in a firm grip by Titus. The girl is on the ground. From my peripheral vision, I thought I see Anya stand up from her chair. As if she’s giving me a double take.

            “Put the knife down, Ontari,” Roan orders.

            “Your mother is dead because of her,” Ontari spits out, turning to Roan.

            So, that must be _Wanheda_. Clarke kom Skaikru. Lexa’s supposed new lover. Who performed that failed assassination attempt before that match over a week ago. I still find it interesting that Ontari never connected Roan to the assassination attempt since he literally provided her with the poison. Because who else would?

            “You will obey your king,” Roan drawls.

            Ontari’s grip on her knife loosens as she sighs and I take the knife from her hands before pocketing it.

            “An unfortunate fact we have her to thank as well,” Ontari seethes, glaring down at Clarke. “No matter.”

            Ontari lifts herself to her full height and Titus helps Clarke to her feet.

            “When I am _Heda_ and the king and queen bow to me, you and every last member of _Skaikru_ will die,” Ontari declares.

            Clarke sends her a glare that would have sent Ontari six feet under if she wanted. If I’m not mistaken, Anya is directing a death glare to her as well.

            “If you are curious, this is my wife Eirwen,” Roan introduces, gesturing to me. “Queen of Ice Nation.”

            Clarke’s eyes widen to the size of saucers though Titus narrows his eyes. Like he too is trying to place me.

            “Pleasure,” he says.

            “I always found it peculiar that your mother wed you off to someone from a patrol division the Royal Guard,” Anya points out. “I thought she would have chosen someone who she thought wasn’t beneath you.”

            Roan scoffs. “She had her reasons,” he says in a tone that ended the conversation altogether. He doesn’t like it when people bring up his deceased mother. He was nothing but tool to her when she was alive and he knew that perfectly well.

            I turn to look at Clarke. They say that Titus’s negligence brought on Lexa’s death but as I suspected earlier, there must be more to what happened. Perhaps she knows since it’s strongly implied that she was Lexa’s new lover given the lengths she had gone to protect her.

            “I would like to thank you for the introduction,” I inform Roan before turning to Clarke. “However, I would like a word with _Wanheda_ in private. Some things need to be answered.”

            I could see that she swallowed hard. From my peripheral vision, Anya slowly nods her head with a furrowed brow. Yet she says nothing.

 

* * *

 

            Though it’s been five years, I still remember which corridors to take to get to the Commander’s quarters. Which makes guiding me to it pointless. The doors open for us and I fight to keep my breath even as we step in.

            “Leave us,” I command to my guards as I look out the window.

            There is a pause. “Your highness, we stay here,” Echo insists. “If Wanheda tries to –”

            “Did I make myself clear when I said this would be a private conversation?” I demand, not looking at her. “Besides, you and Yaxley should be watching over Ontari to make sure she does nothing rash.”

            Another pause. “Yes, my queen,” Echo resigns before I hear her and her companion leave the room before the door closes.

            I step closer to the window, allowing the descending sun’s rays to bathe my face before she dips below the horizon.

            “I have almost forgotten how beautiful the sunsets were in Polis,” I murmur, intentionally making myself heard. “It was like an artist painted it on canvass with great care.”

            I hear footsteps walk closer to me and I look to see Clarke standing next to me. Awareness lighting up her eyes. “Costia?” she asks with uncertainty. “According to Lexa, Nia had you killed. Sent your head to her bed.”

            I let out a snort. “That’s what that frigid hag wanted her to think. She was going to kill me until she found out from her chief torturer that I bled black. She wasn’t going to let another Nightblood go under her nose.”

            Clarke pauses, like she remembers an important fact before she suggests, “You must be the ninth novitiate from Lexa’s Conclave. It would explain why she was hesitant to talk about it.”

            “No, that was someone else,” I divulge as I sit on the loveseat. “Now, I want to ask you something: it was said that Titus’s negligence killed her. How did she die exactly?”

            She takes a deep breath before beginning. “Titus was disappointed because she would not declare war on my people after they attacked a village,” she starts. “Lexa enforced a blockade until they would hand over our current chancellor.”

            Skaikru attacked a village. How does that not surprise me? Especially since they slaughtered two hundred and ninety-nine people in their sleep. Some of them who have not seen a fighting day in their lives from what I heard. Though I don’t bring up because it’s not the topic of our conversation.

            “After Lexa and I…after we said goodbye, I went to my room to prepare to leave when I saw my friend tied to my bedpost,” Clarke continues. “Titus thought that by killing me and framing him, that it would get her to declare war on my people” She shakes her head. “He shot her instead when she passed through the doors.”

            It was like someone took out my brain, rearranged it, and placed it back in my cranium. Titus used a gun – a weapon that is considered taboo – to kill this girl and wound up killing Lexa instead? Just so she could declare war on Skaikru?

            If Titus wanted to kill Clarke so Lexa could declare war, it only confirms that Clarke was Lexa’s new lover. Only Titus doesn’t realize that she would have done the same like she had when Nia sent her that head.

            “Lexa never stopped thinking about you,” Clarke continues. “She never stopped loving you.”

            I take a deep breath. Lexa. Gone. Her life taken after she was shot by a bullet meant for someone else. The blood reaches my face as the waterworks come back. Not only was her life cut short but she went in a way that was pathetic and unfit for a Commander.

            I regret not taking the opportunity sooner to leave Azgeda and go back to Trigeda to reunite with my family and Lexa after Nia’s death. Refusing Roan’s offer to annul our marriage so I could return to my people with the promise of raising our daughter jointly. But uncertainty ruled me and still, I doubt my people will accept me back if I showed my face.

            “If only Lexa knew that she killed Nia for nothing,” I murmur. “That I was actually alive.”

            Clarke pauses. Like she doesn’t know what to say until she clears her throat. “Anya seemed to recognize you when you walked in with Roan and Ontari,” she observes. “I can speak with Anya and we can both arrange a caravan to get you back to your people. To your father, your sister, and brother.”

            I glare at her. “You think my father would accept me back after five years?” I demand. “That my clan would accept me back? Trikru resents Azgeda even after they joined the Coalition. They would see me as an infidel and denounce me as a tainted traitor. Also, by taking me back, it will put Trikru at the mercy of Azgeda. They will think I was kidnapped. I’m a queen now, remember?”

            “If we tell Roan –”

            “No,” I protest. “I will not return to my clan just to be cast out.”

            Clarke shakes her head and looks ahead of her before turning to look at me again. “There is that Temple of the Flame,” she says. “I know you couldn’t come close to her but you might be able to pay your respects there before you leave.”

            Once again, I look at her. The Temple holds some possessions of the previous Commanders and after one passes, they put a few of their possessions in the Temple. Concealed in boxes. I would be happy to pay my respects to Lexa in some form. Even it means holding something she held dear.

            “Of course,” I answer.

 

* * *

 

            We weave through the dark city streets. Careful not to step over anything that would cause us to trip on the concrete. Right now, all the novitiates are asleep. Tomorrow, only one of them will live to see the sun go down tomorrow and I have a nagging feeling who that will be.

            A bunch of twelve year olds are no match against someone who is nineteen and trained for more years then they have. Though Ontari will still be considered ineligible since she wasn’t trained here.

            When we stop at the Temple door, my heart beats loudly against my chest.

            “Well, here we are, your highness,” says Clarke’s Skaikru companion (who I thought Clarke called Murphy). The last words used mockingly. “Right this way.”

            I glare at him before turning the door handle. My feet echo against the concrete as we descend the steps. Behind the door, sharp whispering could be heard.

            Clarke turns the handle and we slowly file in the room after her. The first thing I see is the pod in which Bekka Pramheda descended down in nearly two centuries ago.

            “Clarke, why are you still here?” I hear Anya ask in concern. “Considering Ontari’s odds for the Conclave, it is not safe for you here.”

            I hear someone walk forward before the footsteps stop. When I look who it is, I feel the blood drain from my face. It can’t be. It is impossible.

            Looking at her, it’s like she’s seeing a ghost as well. Given that she’s pale as a sheet and her green eyes are like saucers.

            “Costia?” she rasps.

            “Lexa?” I choke.

* * *

 

**_Five Years Ago_ **

The snow crunches under my feet as I navigate through the woods to find that wildcat that I saw earlier. For some reason, he thinks he might evade me. Though he most likely wasn’t taking his paw prints into consideration.

            Looking at the position of the sun, it’s an hour before noontide. Its two hours before someone rings the mealtime bell for lunch. If my pace is efficient enough, I should be back with the dead mountain lion before then. Trek through these woods two hours after and it would worry father.

            Considering our war with Azgeda, I’m not that foolish to give father a scare.

            Not to mention that Lexa is coming to the village to pay a visit to discuss battle plans. Nothing romantic is happening but I don’t want to appear too unkempt.

After a minute of tracking my prey, I stop and reach into my bag for my canister of nuts. As I start to unscrew the lid, the canister slips from my hands. It rolls away from me.

            Blast!

            I follow the direction of the canister through the trees and I’m about to reach for it until the can stops in front of a pair of boots. My body freezes as my eyes scale the person in front of me. Blue tinted clothing. White furs.

            The blood drains from my face. He’s not Trikru.

            The man gives me a smirk before reaching down and picking up the canister. He offers it to me. “ _Is this yours_?” he asks me.

            It’s like the hairs on the back of my neck are beginning to stand on end. Shaking my head, I back away. Only for my back to hit what feels like a chest.

            Instantly, I turn around. There is another person from Azgeda.

            “ _Well, what do we know_?” she sneers. “ _We got ourselves a young one. Which unit are you from, girl_?”

            “ _Isn’t this one of Tristan’s brats_?” I hear a third person pitch in. “ _I see her in the battlefield. Always situated close to him. She must be in his unit_.”

            “ _She’s not only his brat_ ,” says the first one as the blood pumps in my ears. “ _I recognize her from Polis as the Commander’s lover. She must know a thing or two about that bitch that she could share_.”

            There is only three of them and one of me. Frantically, I look around for a exit. There is one area that’s accessible. If I shoot them and run, I could escape from their predatory gaze and make a run back to the village.

            I stick my hand behind me and grab a arrow –

            Hard rough hands seize my wrist and I’m thrown to the cold snow. Before I could get back on my feet, someone lies on top of me.

            “ _Where do you think you are going, blight_?” the first one hisses. “ _You are not running away from us_.”

            I struggle from his grip and bite his fingers. My captive screams in pain and when I think I find the escape window, a hand grabs my head and slams it on the ground.

            Darkness.


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Regarding Lexa’s arc in Season 3, I had a feeling that they wanted to do something else with her arc that season regarding the fact that they intended for Alycia to be a regular before she was contracted by AMC for Fear the Walking Dead. They might have intended to expand on the Lostia story, since Lexa losing Costia had a major effect on Lexa and her relationship with Clarke and I have a nagging feeling that it somehow wasn’t over. But that was just my speculation as I am not a part of the show’s writing team.
> 
> Trigger warning for rape at the end of the chapter. Anyone who has experienced sexual violence or any type of sexual assault, the National Sexual Assault Hotline is always open.

Lexa takes one step forward. She shakes her head. Like she doesn’t believe what she is seeing.

            Like this is some dream she is in.

            I literally pinch myself. Anytime now, I’m going to wake up and find myself in bed. That this was just some dream. However, everything that has happened in the past few hours are too vivid to be a dream.

            “It’s true then,” she murmurs. “You’re alive.”

            The second time I hear her speak, it makes me realize that this is not a dream. Lexa is alive. Alive and breathing. Without restraint, I barrel towards her and throw my arms around her. The warmth of her body and the beating of her heart is evidence enough that she is alive.

            My tears from my eyes are streaming from my eyes and I shake with sobs as I cry into her shoulder. I could feel her fingers run through my hair.

            “Lexa,” I sniff. “I thought…I thought that I would never see you again.”

            I withdraw my face from her shoulder to take a glimpse of her. Her emerald eyes are glassy and tears are running down her cheeks. “I…I,” she begins, gasping. “Nia sent me your head! You were dead!”

            _How are you not dead_ , I want to ask, though that would be best explained another day and another time. Like the answer to her question due to certain circumstances.

            “It’s a long story,” I answer. “Due to the circumstances we’re in, now is most likely not the time.” Turning to Anya, I tell her, “You knew that it was me back there.”

            “I didn’t want to believe it when I saw you, as two people could look exactly the same,” she answers, stepping forward, “yet that didn’t abate my suspicions. When you spoke, it only sealed my suspicions.”

            It took my voice to confirm my identity. It’s been five years, though my voice didn’t change much as others around me observed.

            She comes forward and enfolds me in her arms. Every fiber of my body freezes, not sure what to make of the gesture. Though I return the gesture, hesitantly.

            “I’d never thought that I would see you again, Costia,” she breathes as she pats my back, though her voice breaks slightly.

            When I withdraw from her, I see that her eyes are just as glassy as Lexa’s were. She brushes her cheek to dry her cheeks.

            “Hate to be a downer for this reunion but I think there is something urgent that I can tell you wish to discuss,” says Murphy.

            It’s like a sense of urgency fills the room, though Clarke is the first one to speak. “About Ontari, we need to talk about her,” Clarke asserts. “She was not trained here. Why would you allow her into the Conclave?”

            “Ontari has the blood of the Commanders,” Titus answers. Causing me to direct my eyes to him. I didn’t realize that he was here. “It is her birthright to compete for the Flame.”

            “Birthright is one thing but just because it’s her birthright, that doesn’t make her qualify for the Flame,” Anya points out, glaring at Titus. “To be a good Commander, one has to have all three pillars and from what I have seen so far, she only holds one. Thanks to the law regarding unregistered Natblidas, you are putting Trikru and the other eleven clans at risk by giving her a spot in the Conclave. As I said, Ontari’s odds of winning the Conclave are high and knowing Azkru, we might not have a official Conclave.”

            “The Flame will choose Aden,” Lexa trembles. “I wouldn’t say that if I wasn’t sure, Anya.”

            I wanted to point out that Ontari is also under watch by Echo and Yaxley as per my orders but a nasty voice in the back of my head whispers that Ontari would figure out how to pull something regardless. I wouldn’t be surprised since I have known her for five years. Yet I would be surprised if Echo neglected to follow up on her order due to her unwavering loyalty to me despite my Trikru roots.

“A novitiate from the Plain Riders is no match against someone from Azgeda,” Anya grimly points out to Lexa. “If we know one thing, Azkru are known for their ruthlessness and brutality in battle. It will give her a combat advantage in the arena.”

“Anya is right,” I agree. “Ruthless would be an understatement to describe her, to be honest.”

            “If she does get that Flame, we shouldn’t have to worry, right?” Murphy asks. He turns to Lexa. “I mean, you are basically still in there. It might not matter.”

            “It matters,” Titus disagrees. “Before Lexa, I have served four Commanders as Flamekeeper. None half as wise or strong as her.”

            “The Flame only enhances what’s within,” Lexa confirms. “If Anya is right and if Ontari is chosen by the Flame, Ice Nation will hold most of the power of the Coalition and _Skaikru_ will be wiped out.”

            Outside, we hear the sound of a horn being blown. A shiver creeps down my spine. The last time I heard that tempo was when Lexa won the final round on her Conclave. The Conclave doesn’t officially start until tomorrow morning after sunrise. A horrible feeling sets in my stomach.

            “What is that?” Murphy asks.

            “The victory horn,” Titus answers before running out of the room, with Clarke and Murphy right behind him. I pause before following them.

            Behind me, I hear Anya holding Lexa back before the former joins us.

 

* * *

 

            Going back into the tower, there is a higher concentration of people outside and in the throne room by the looks of it. I wade through the shouting crowds and find myself standing next to Roan. Who has pulled Clarke towards him.

            Anya glares at Roan but instead of pulling her away from him, she stands in front of Clarke so she wouldn’t be seen.

            “What is going on?” Clarke asks.

            Roan puts his fingers to his lips, shushing her. Not tearing his eyes from the dais.

            Ontari is sitting on the throne, with a unsheathed sword on her lap. It’s nighttime and the room is dark but the darkness doesn’t hide the fact that her face is covered with black blood. There were only thirteen people in Polis with Nightblood at the time.

            Ontari, Lexa, and I are out of the equation, which only leaves the novitiates.

            “What is the meaning of this?” Titus demands as he stands before her.

            Ontari doesn’t give a verbal answer. She simply bends over and sticks her hand in a leather bag. When she holds it out, I see that it’s the head of that boy I saw with Clarke earlier.

            It’s like this morning’s meal is threatening to come back up as I feel the blood drain from my face. I stand back and cover my mouth; trying to hold back vomit. Unsurprisingly, Roan isn’t the least fazed. Though Anya is covering her mouth and shaking her head. Like she is tempted to vomit from the gruesome sight as well.

            Clarke’s eyes widen and she gasps, “Aden.”  

            “If she sees you, she’ll have your head too,” Roan warns.

            “It is not safe for you here,” Anya whispers to Clarke. “You and your companion should leave soon.”

            “She is right,” Murphy points out. “We need to get out of here.”

            Ontari kicks the bag away from her and discards the head like it’s nothing but rubbish. Therefore making the nausea even worse. She straightens on the throne and with cold hearted indifference, she declares, “I win.”

            It’s not long before I feel the blood reach my surface, coupled with the nausea. I spot Echo a few yards to my right and I march towards her, the blood pumping in my veins.

            Her face pales and she stammers, “Eirwen, I didn’t mean to – I -

            “Good thing we are friends, Echo,” I spit out quietly, “for I would have had your head for your negligence. This isn’t the honorable way to win a Conclave.”

 

* * *

 

            Anya vanished few minutes later. Probably to go to the temple to inform Lexa about Ontari’s dishonorable victory or to alert Trikru about what happened. Most likely both. Why was Ontari’s victory dishonorable? Because she didn’t compete when her opponents were ready to fight.

            Then again I shouldn’t have put it past Ontari to kill the Nightbloods when they were sleeping. She took the coward’s ticket.

            In the darkness, I weave through the buildings. Lexa will no doubt leave Polis shortly as there will be nothing for her here. People think she’s dead, so it will make sense if she vanishes from Polis altogether. I don’t want her to leave without me.

            I want to feel the warmth of her body again. Be near her again. Make up for the last five years that we both lost simply because of Nia’s dirty politics.

            Looking around the alleyways and making sure that no one was present, I sprint to the door of the Temple and quietly turn the handle to open it. I scurry down the steps without a second thought and open the door.

            “… _honoring tradition, Titus_ ,” Lexa snaps as I enter. “ _If Ontari hasn’t won the Conclave honorably, she doesn’t have the right to host the Flame_.”

            Lexa, wearing one of the past clothes of one of the past Commander’s, takes her hand out of a overcoat. Suggesting that she placed something in a inside pocket. Her eyes turn to mine as does Titus.

            “ _What are you doing here?_ ” Titus demands, glaring at me. “ _Shouldn’t you be leaving for Ice Nation with your husband to deliver the news of the new Commander?_ ”

            Though there is no malice in his words, they still sting. They suggest that I’m _Azgeda_ through and through when that is not true. Yes, they might have influenced me in my methods but I’m still and will always be _Trikru_.

            “ _They will hear from those that she is the Commander_ ,” I bite back, stepping forward. “ _Also, I’m not of Ice Nation, Titus. I am of the Woods Clan_.”

            “ _It doesn’t erase the fact that you spent time with them for five years_ ,” Titus persists. “ _You might not be Ice Nation-born but you are one of them regardless_.”

            I felt myself stand back, like those words slapped me in the face. I channel every ounce of resentment in one glare.

            “ _Bite your tongue, Titus_ ,” Lexa scolds as she passes him and walks towards him. “ _I want to see her before I leave_.”

            “ _Yes but take me too_ ,” I plead.

            “ _What about Roan_?” Lexa asks, raising her eyebrow. “ _Does he know that you are leaving?_ ”

            Roan. I regret not stopping and telling him my plan. That I’m going to leave for some time. That I plan on visiting Ice Nation soon to see our daughter. I could have but with this new turn of events, I deemed it dangerous, as someone could have heard us.

            “ _He will understand_ ,” I answer. “ _It was him that wanted me to depart home after his mother’s death_.”

            “ _But you didn’t_ ,” Lexa notes. Looking at her, there is no jealousy. It’s like she knows the answer I will provide and that she’s waiting for me to answer just so I could confirm it.

            “ _Yes, though it was because I was afraid what the others will view me as after all that has happened_ ,” I share. “ _For all I know, they will see me as tainted. Like Titus, they will see me as Ice Nation_.”

            She shakes her head as she steps closer before pressing her lips to my scarred forehead. My breath quickens and my pulse accelerates from the feeling of her lips.

            “ _You have me_ ,” she assures. “ _Anya didn’t reject you either_.”

            “ _Just because two people still care for me, that doesn’t mean that the others will_ ,” I point out. Father hated Azgeda with a burning passion after what happened with my eldest sister a year before my capture, last time I knew. If he sees me, I’ll be dead to him. He’ll just see me as another Azkru. Indra would be just as unforgiving and she’ll see the warrior that killed her husband just by seeing me, even though I wasn’t the one that gave him the sword swipe that ended his life.

            I don’t know about Lincoln, though. He wouldn’t be as vehement but he wouldn’t want to associate himself with someone from Azgeda, especially since he lost his sister on the battlefield.

            The door opens behind us and we turn to see that it’s just Clarke. Who looks down sheepishly like she thought she walked in on something private.

            “Clarke, why are you still here?” Lexa demands, the fear and uncertainty in her voice. “For all we know, someone could be heading to _Azgeda_ with the message of the new Commander. You should flee before members of _Azkru_ arrive.”

            Clarke nods, and says, “Yes, but not without the Flame. Tell me, Lexa. You wouldn’t choose someone like Ontari to lead. I know you wouldn’t.”

            Lexa opens her mouth to speak before Titus clears his throat. “You would,” he states, looking towards Lexa. “Ontari is the last Natblida that was slated to compete for the Flame.”

            Lexa turns to Titus, her face flushing red. “She hacked Aden’s and the other novitiates' heads off before the horn signifying the start of the Conclave blew, making it dishonorable!” she bellows. “There are plenty of Nightbloods around that would be more worthy to take the Flame then Ontari!”

            “They were chosen to only produce more down their family trees,” Titus stresses. “Therefore making them unworthy.”

            Clarke turns toward them like a lightbulb lit up. “Lexa, you said there were eight other novitiates in your Conclave,” Clarke points out. “I thought it was Costia when she mentioned she had Nightblood but she said it wasn’t her. Is that Nightblood still alive?”

            Lexa slowly turns her head and I thought I see her swallow hard. “Yes. She refused to kill me during the second round,” she answers, sniffing at the last part of the sentence. “Titus wanted her hunted down but I ordered him not to. She spared my life and I decided to spare hers in return. Perhaps I might –”

            “She’s a traitor to the blood, Lexa,” Titus reprimands. “She’s unworthy of the Flame. I thought you would know better than to see her as a candidate for the Flame.”

            “More unworthy then Ontari?” Clarke demands. “That Nightblood might have fled the Conclave for refusing to kill Lexa, it only proves that she is more honorable then Ontari. I am sure that even Costia might also be more worthy herself.”

            “I was not assigned to fight for the Flame,” I point out. “I was assigned to pass it down the family tree. I might have the blood of the Commanders but I am not worthy to have the Flame indwelt in me.”

            Outside, there are shouts and I thought I hear Ontari shout, “ _Out of my way_!”

            Someone clatters down the steps and through the open door we see that it’s Murphy. “She’s here,” he grunts.           

            “Hide,” Titus urgently instructs Lexa and Clarke. Lexa takes Clarke’s hand and leads her to a alcove. Hidden from view. Wanting to abate suspicion to buy me time, I take my knife from my sheath and press the blade against Titus’s throat. Shoving him against the pod.

            “What are you doing?” he asks as I hear her footsteps descend the steps.

            “Trust me,” I say through gritted teeth.

            Footsteps enter the room and Ontari asks, “What is this, Eirwen?”

            I remove the knife from his throat and face her. “Just trying to coax him to produce the Flame, Commander,” I lie. Ontari is not Commander and she would be illegitimate. Still, she would expect me to refer her to that even before she ascended.

            “I was going to take care of that myself, Eirwen,” she dictates. “I admire the help but there was no need for such.” She directs her gaze to Titus. “As to you: how dare you bring _Skaikru_ into the Order of the Flame?”

            “It’s what Lexa wanted,” Titus answers.

            “Well, Lexa’s not _Heda_ anymore,” Ontari observed. Chuckling softly and smirking, she continues, “Thanks to you. Let’s get this over with.”

            Ontari has no clue of how the ascension process works due to Nia’s carelessness. Though I myself didn’t educate her due to the fact that I didn’t simply trust her with the knowledge.

Titus hesitates before he says, “You must be cleansed before you ascend.” He looks to Murphy. “Take her to the Commander’s chambers. Perform the ritual.”

            Titus is not lying. After one wins the Conclave, they are cleansed off the blood of their fallen fellow novitiates. That way they can have a clean ascension.

            Murphy rolls his eyes. “You’re sure I’m ready for that?” he retorts.

            Ontari pulls out her sword and places it close to his neck. “ _Stop talking, worm!_ ” she reprimands. She turns to me, like she’s waiting for me to follow.

            “I will see you shortly,” I lie, knowing I have no intention of doing so. For good measure, I smirk and chuckle, “and I doubt that Roan would like it if I saw you naked.”

            Ontari rolls her eyes before turning her back. Sliding her sword in her sheath as she follows Murphy out of the room.

            Lexa and Clarke leave from their hiding place as soon as the door closes.

            “Thank you,” Clarke says.

            He nods. “Even Luna would be better than her,” he admits.

            Recognition flashes in Clarke’s eyes. Like she knows her. I don’t know why she would, since Skaikru first landed in my stomping grounds. Before it occurs to me that she probably knows Lincoln, who would have told her. “Did you just say _Luna_?” Clarke asks.

            Titus turns to her. “Yes,” he answers. “You heard the name before?”

            “From my friend, Lincoln,” she explains. So, that’s why.

            Lexa’s green eyes widen, like she suddenly remembers something. “Lincoln is in Arkadia,” she passes on before turning to Clarke. “We go to Arkadia, find Lincoln, and see if we can seek his help. I would assume that your people would have handed over Pike by the time we arrive. It will be safe, then. Luna will not allow Titus near her.”

            Clarke nods. “Yes, we will go to him,” she says. “Though we need the Flame.”

            Lexa reaches into her jacket and pulls out the container. She opens it, revealing the Flame. “I planned to do the same before you got here,” Lexa reveals. “Had she won in normal circumstances, I would have given it to her but since she killed Aden and his fellow novitiates in their sleep, I thought that she wasn’t deserving of it.”

            “Good call,” Clarke acknowledges.

            “You two need this as well,” Titus points out, holding the Commander’s Journal. “If you see Luna, it contains the ancient ritual to perform the ascension.”

            Titus takes Clarke to the wardrobe containing the armor of past Commander’s. Saying, “Pick something. The tunnel leads to the stables. They are expecting you and Lexa.”

            “I am sure that they wouldn’t mind a third person,” I suggest.

            Titus turns to me, like I lost my mind. “You are Queen of Ice Nation,” he persists. “If Ontari finds out you are missing, she will send soldiers after you. You will be a fugitive.”

            “Most likely, she would think I was kidnapped by _Wanheda_ and will send Roan to retrieve the two of us, since he was able to find Clarke before. A king has to be responsible for his queen and vice versa,” I point out. “Besides, it’s not like he’ll hold it against me. As I said, he’ll understand why, though he wouldn’t know the real reason.”

 

* * *

 

**_Five Years Ago_ **

            My eyes flutter open and the first thing I see what looks like curved metal rods touching fabric. Something is binding my wrists together and when I move my hands, the rope burns my skin.

            When my eyes adjust, I see that I’m kept in a wagon and the wind is blowing the cold air in. I begin to shiver. Outside through the cracks, I observe that it’s dark outside with the faint orange hue of a nearby fire. It was close to noon when I encountered the Azgeda warriors. It must be night now.

            How long have I been knocked out?

            I register voices in a conversation outside and thought I make out the words “Gara by noontide if we leave early tomorrow morning.” The heart pounds in my chest as I register its meaning. If they think they will make it to the Ice Nation capital by noon tomorrow, it could only mean one thing: they have taken me across the border and we’re well into Ice Nation.

            I curl myself into a ball and feeling helpless, I let the tears flow. It’s way past the time I should have traveled home from my hunting trip. By now, father has launched search parties looking for me while Lexa would aid in the effort.

            I don’t want to imagine their reaction when they find my quiver of arrows and bow on the ground.

            Outside, snow crunches under boots and when the footsteps get closer to the wagon, I sit up abruptly. The heart pounding in my chest. The flap is lifted open and that first Azgeda warrior enters the wagon.

            His lips curve into a sickening smirk. “ _You awoke_ ,” he says. “ _How convenient_.”

            The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end and it’s like my skin is crawling. The nasty voice in the back of my head whispers that he has something worse than murder on his mind.

            He advances to me and I shift away from him. Unfortunately, he grabs me by my braids and throws me on the wooden floor of the wagon. My head throbs and when I hear him unhook his belt, my eyes widen.

            No, no, no, no!

            “ _No, please_ ,” I beg, feeling the tears running down my cheeks. “ _Please, no_.”

            I hear him pull down his pants. “ _Begging is only going to make me harder_ ,” he sneers.

            It’s like the nausea settles in my stomach at those words. The idea that he likes to hear women beg before he…I don’t want to think about that. I don’t want to dwell on that possibility.

            I feel his knees on my legs and he unhooks my belt.

            “ _Don’t do this, please_!” I sob. “ _Please! Kill me instead! Just kill me!_ ”

            He chuckles darkly as he pulls down my pants with my underwear. “ _If I do that, my queen will have me killed_ ,” he mocks.

            He forces my legs apart and when he forces himself in, the pain sears through my body and I scream. The tears running down my face.

 

* * *

 

            The wagon travels further into Azgeda territory, jolting every now and then from the trail. I don’t know how much time has passed since my captors packed up and continued on but it’s like time slowed to a crawl.

            Yet, time feels meaningless.

            When the wagon stops, I gaze at the flaps with my pulse raising as I hear footsteps. There are other voices suggesting that we’re not alone yet that doesn’t stop my muscles from tensing up.

            The flap opens and it’s the second Azgeda warrior. When she drags me up, I don’t fight. It’s like the will to land a kick has been taken away from me. Like I lost all will to fight.

            Was it that monster’s intention when he violated me last night?

            I’m dragged outside and frigid cold air bites my face as my feet hit the snow. I look at the ground as they push me forward. As they push me up cracked concrete steps and push me through a set of doors.

            They take me through what looks like a foyer and through a second set of double doors.

            “ _We have a valuable find, my queen_ ,” the second captor says, the giddiness apparent in her voice. “ _The Commander’s lover_.”

            I jolt, like my mind has entered my body once more.

            I look up to see the Queen stand up from a large, intricately carved chair. She cocks her head at me as she descends the platform that holds her throne. At a table three yards away from me sits four people, two of them teenage girls, with the third person being a boy in his late teens. Accompanied by an elder brother in his early twenties. All appear apathetic.

            My gaze is torn from them as a cold hand grabs my face and is turned forward. The queen studies my face before sizing me up. A smirk of satisfaction curls her lips as she withdraws her hand. “ _From Ambassador Ivan’s descriptions, this has to be the Commander’s lover_ ,” she says. “ _Take her downstairs and tomorrow we’ll start seeing how much she will reveal to us._ ”

            As hands drag me away from the throne room, a sack is forced over my head.


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Most of this chapter takes place during “Fallen”, the episode where Clarke only appeared in the last few minutes.

As the sun continues to rise, the farther we venture from Polis. Though one could see the red smoke signifying the death of the previous “Commander” and the ascension of the new one. People will see it and burn small pyres to spread the message.

            Only that they do not know that it’s not Lexa’s body that is burning.

            Lexa’s horse lingers as she stops to look back at Polis. From where I’m at, I notice that she’s looking at Polis as if it’s burning to the ground. Tears streaming down her cheeks.

            “Lexa, I’m sorry about Aden,” Clarke apologizes.

            “Don’t apologize,” Lexa chokes. “This was all my doing. If it were not for my negligence and arrogance, Aden would still be alive.”

            Come on, say something, Costia. Say something or else she would think that I became some ice queen. Which I am technically but still…

            “Don’t put it on yourself, Lexa,” I consul her. “When it boils down to it, this was all Nia’s doing. If Ontari hadn’t been snatched by Ice Nation and molded into a psychopath, this wouldn’t have happened.”

            Even while Ontari and I had many things in common, we never clicked as friends. I tried to be a friend. Find a better person behind that cold, Azgeda ruthlessness but the day when she killed a ten year old boy for showing the slightest disrespect to Nia two years ago made it clear that a friendship was not happening.

            It was impossible.

            Lexa looks at me. Her eyes wide, as if someone hasn’t reminded her to not bear all that weight in a long time. I could only imagine that Titus never did such a thing, as Commander’s are solely responsible for the decisions they make.

            “We need to get moving,” Clarke says from behind us, the urgency evident in her voice. “The farther away we are from Polis, the safer we will be.”

            We hear Clarke’s horse walk away and Lexa takes one glance at Polis before she sighs. Holding the reins, she steers her horse after Clarke and I follow shortly after.

            Winter makes it difficult to differentiate between Azgeda and Trigeda given the snow on the ground. Like the seemingly endless White Forest surrounding Gara, the pine trees are covered in fine snow. Only the trees surrounding it are different. They see that the trees change when you travel across the continent. It’s interesting that when you look at a tree, it has many stories it could tell if it talked.

            “Where was Anya last night?” Clarke asks about fifteen minutes into our travel from Polis. “She disappeared after Ontari…well, I wouldn’t say won since she killed them in their sleep.”

            Where was Anya? I was surprised that I myself didn’t ask that question back in the Temple.

            “She left to Brighton to inform them about what happened in Polis,” Lexa answered. “I am sure riders are sent to spread the word. Tristan is smart, which I give him credit for. He’s not going to bow to an Azgeda Commander who didn’t win the Conclave honorably.”

            I jolt at the mention of my father. Aside from Ontari, would Anya let slip that she saw me in Polis? I’m hoping she didn’t but I can’t see her hiding something that important from him. It would be out of character.

            “Ontari wouldn’t take it kindly if she was met with resistance unless people were silent about it,” I point out. “Father wouldn’t be stupid to make his resistance obvious.”

            “That depends how long Ontari is Commander,” Clarke notes. “Once we find Luna and perform the ascending ritual, we wouldn’t have to worry about resisting.”

            That is –

            “Unless she refuses the Flame,” I indicate. “Luna refused to kill Lexa in the second round and she fled to live a life of pacifism. She wouldn’t accept the Flame to partake in a culture that she now rejects.”

            Lexa’s face turns to me. Looking scandalized like I would propose such a thing. “Luna will take the Flame. I am certain of it,” Lexa dictates. “Luna doesn’t have to adhere to _Jus Drein Jus Daun_ to be Commander.”

            True but the Flame carries the conscience of all the past Commanders. Each of them having their own methods of doing things. All Natblidas (with the outstanding and obvious exception of Ontari) are taught this and I’m sure that will be why she would refuse the Flame. As the memories of Bekka Pramheda and the most recent Commander’s predecessor are the strongest influence of the Flame.

            The cloud cover makes it difficult to determine the position of the sun but the shade of the overcast sky is enough to determine the time of day. Once it feels like we traveled four hours and we spot the mouth of a cave, Clarke decides that we should stop for a quick bite of lunch.

            We dismount our horses, though it’s like Lexa has to be more careful. Like she doesn’t want to put too much assertion on her abdomen. Clarke moves forward, like she wants to help but I beat her to it.

            I take Lexa’s hand and with delicacy, help her fully dismount from the saddle. She groans in pain and I find myself unstrapping her jacket and lifting her shirt. Over her abdomen, are thick bandages. The blood rushes to my hand and face as I visualize what might have happened.

            So the part of the story where Titus shot Lexa when he meant for the bullet to hit Clarke was true. Yet Lexa faked her own death. Was it because of the dishonor of having her own Flamekeeper betraying her and she felt like her tenure as Commander was tainted because of it?

            Or was it something else? When the life was most likely flashing before her eyes before she was saved, she came to the conclusion that every decision she made was a disservice to me and therefore she felt tainted because of it?

            Is it one of those? Or both? I’ll have to see.

            “I’m going to have to change the bandage,” I necessitate, “but we’re going to have to get in the cave first.”

            The three of us go into the cave and as Clarke gets the fire going, I lay Lexa down and open my provisions bag to get the bandage and the honey paste. I lift her shirt once more and carefully peel the bandage from her abdomen. On her abdomen, is a piece of skin that appears to be fused and melted together. Like it was cauterized. Though there are no signs of infection, the cauterized wound does appear slightly irritated.

            “Do you need help over there?” Clarke asks as I brush the ointment carefully over the stitches. I could swear that her pulse most likely accelerated at my touch.

            “I have learned how to treat wounds,” I assure. “My mother was the main healer in our village until –”

            I exhale. That winter day the Reapers took her from me is still vivid in my memory. My mother was avenged the night the Mountain fell at the hands of _Skaikru_ but not quite since one still miraculously lived despite the radiation. If I had it my way and if Roan allowed me to execute him, Emerson would have been dead by now. If I killed him, Lexa wouldn’t have spared him due to her recent “Blood Must Not Have Blood” policy.

            “Until what?” Clarke asks. Like she understands where it’s headed. As if she understands what it is like to lose one parent. That she has been there herself.

            I shake my head as tears stream down my cheeks. Just because she thinks she understands doesn’t mean I should tell her. We barely know each other.

I pull a piece of bandage and carefully rest it on Lexa’s abdomen before applying the paste at edges. Securing the bandage.

“There,” I say, failing to hold back my breaking voice. “We should be able to avoid infection. Dying from a bullet is one thing but infection is worse.”

Lexa cracks a smile. “I can’t express how I missed your healing touch, Costia,” she says. “You have not gone rusty.”

The blood rushes to my cheeks as I try not to smile like an idiot.

Clarke opens the flap in her bag as Lexa carefully sits up and leans against the cave wall. I gather the medical supplies into my provisions bag and her hand touches mine as I reach for the roll of bandages. Looking at her emerald eyes, they are lit with unanswered questions.

“Now, will you tell me why you are alive?” she asks.

It’s like a golf ball has lodged itself in my throat at the question. I was hoping that I would tell her when it was just the two of us in the room. Yet, Clarke would find out anyway.

I close my eyes and exhale. “They kept me locked up for a week,” I begin. “Only removing me from my cell once a day to try to get me to crack. Even when subjected to the worst pain possible, I never uttered a word.” If my voice didn’t break enough, I could feel the waterworks now. “ For I would have had rather died then betraying you, Lexa. When she found out I bled black, she decided that killing me was a waste and since I was too young to wed her eldest son at the time, she installed me in the Royal Guard. To accomplish it, she sent you a disfigured head with my exact hair color to make you think I died.”

Her green eyes become glassy and she bites her lip. Like she’s trying to imagine all that pain I suffered. Something I don’t want of her.

“I thought for sure Nia would have killed me and before then, my head kept telling me to tell them something,” I admit. “That if I crack, the pain would stop. But my heart insisted that it was best to keep my mouth shut, for they would have killed me anyway if I told them anything. I went by my heart, Lexa and there are days where I actually wish that I am dead than alive. It is a dishonor to be alive after being tortured because I know your secrets. Nia died for nothing, Lexa.”

“Costia, don’t say that,” Lexa chides, her voice shaking. “I don’t care what circumstances it is under, but you being spared was more of a blessing then a curse. And don’t you dare think it was for nothing.”

“Lexa killing Nia wasn’t for nothing, Costia,” Clarke tries to assure. “Nia may not have killed you literally but she snuffed out who you were. Lexa freed you from your captor by throwing that spear.”

I scoff. “She freed me alright,” I spit out. “And I thought that I told you that my clan wouldn’t accept me back, which was why I remained in _Azgeda_. I thought that remaining there was better than being cast out.”

Though, there was another minor reason why I chose to stay. It’s like Azgeda needed another leader that didn’t follow Nia’s methods.

“You might not think it, Costia but when Trikru realizes that you are alive, they will come to understand,” Lexa murmurs. “Even if they are not receptive in the beginning, you have me and Anya. That’s what matters.”

“How did you survive a bullet to the abdomen, Lexa?” I ask.

“Clarke was able to remove the bullet,” Lexa rasps. “She gave me a coagulant, cauterized the wound, cleaned the blood and bandaged me. If not for her and her healing expertise, I would have died.”

I should have thought of that, since Skaikru is the only clan that uses tech and only they would know how to remove bullets. “Wanheda saving your life,” I state. “How ironic.”

 

* * *

 

The three of us depart from the cave, continuing our journey towards Arkadia. The sky growing darker as each hour passes.

They say that _Arkadia_ is located well into _Trigeda_. Merely two hours away from Brighton Village and not much far of a walking distance from the original _Skaikru_ landing. Despite Lexa’s and Clarke’s optimism, I have my doubts that Lincoln would help us look for Luna. As Luna only accepts those fleeing from war or those who were cast out for something they couldn’t control.

At nightfall, we see glinting metal and lights from a distance. This would have to be _Arkadia_ due to the bright white lights instead of traditional yellow candlelight’s.

“It’s okay, Clarke,” Lexa tries to assure her. “You don’t need to fear to show your face to your people.”

            We approach the glinting metal structure while the light of the moon bathes us. Looking at that ship, I wonder how it could have survived merely two centuries in space before descending.

            From my peripheral vision, I see that Lexa has placed her hand on her jacket. Like she was afraid the Flame would fall out.

            We are a few feet before the door when the gate collapses open and a Rover speeds forward. Lexa abruptly grabs my elbows and pulls me away just as the Rover comes to a screeching halt. I put my hands above my eyes, blinded by the headlights and see that the driver couldn’t be any older then fifteen.

            His eyes widen in recognition, as does Clarke’s. Though she looks slightly relieved.

            “Jasper?” she asks.

            She runs towards the rover and the two of us follow. “Jasper, what’s going on?” she demands.

            The door opens. “Get in!” he exclaims, the urgency noticeable in his voice.

            “You don’t understand, we need to see Lincoln,” Lexa persists.

            “I don’t know who you are but you wouldn’t understand!” Jasper argues. “Lincoln is dead and we will be, too, if the three of you don’t get in here now!”

            Gunfire erupts and we look to see people running towards us. Guns blazing. I push Lexa inside before going in. Clarke follows.

            “Why are they shooting?” Clarke demands as we head in the back of the rover, where an unconscious girl lies on the floor. Her wrists covered in bandages. What’s this about? “Lincoln is dead? It has to be some mistake! He can’t be dead! He shouldn’t be dead!” Clarke exclaims.

            Wait a minute? Lincoln is dead? Why, I…that’s practically –

            The engine sputters and the gunshots grow louder behind us.

            “You really are the angel of death, aren’t you, Clarke?” he suggests

            Clarke,” Lexa chokes. Looking at the window to see someone advancing on the door. Clarke stands up when it opens but I take an arrow from the quiver. Embedding it in the man’s eye as the engines start and the rover moves forward. The sky person falls from view as the rover is steered farther from our destination, Clarke moves to close the door. She freezes in her spot and whispers something.

            That girl is a walking danger magnet. She leaves her people, gets a bounty on her head as a result, and she still has the door open after we have been shot at. I move forward and close the door shut.

 

* * *

 

**Five Years Ago**

            I sit huddled against the wall of my cell, rocking as I buried my face in my knees. The frigid wind blows into the cell, dropping the temperature of the room.

            The room reeks of urine, feces, mold, vomit, and death. Either removed after the previous prisoners from this cell or from other cells nearby. Probably both.

            I wipe my eyes as I stare at the door. Like the bastards that captured me, Queen Nia thinks I can crack a thing or two about Lexa. They are heavily mistaken. I will die before revealing anything about her.

            I would never betray her. Even if I told them anything, there is no guarantee that they will keep me alive.

            The sound of the padlock cracking open causes me to sit up. My heart pounding erratically against my chest. The door creaks open and in comes the eldest prince.

            The blood races in my body as I press my body against the wall. Everything around me shakes.

            He walks closer but stops, like he sees the fear on my face. However, he doesn’t smirk in satisfaction.

            “If you think I’m here for that reason you think it is, it’s not,” he says

            “Why you here then?” I ask, my voice hollow.

            At that, he steps closer but not close enough where he’s in my personal space. He squats down and reaches in his vest. He takes out something wrapped in cloth and unwraps it. “Here,” he says. “I know it might not be enough but it should be better than the bread they offer to the prisoners.”

            I look at the bread in his hand. It looks fresh, like it has only been an hour or two since it left the oven. I relatively have been numb for the past few hours that the thought of food never crossed my mind. Yet, the sight of the bread triggered that painful emptiness in my stomach due to lack of food.

            Without hesitation, I find myself snatching the bread from his hand and sink my teeth into it. Definitely fresh and soft. Not hot but definitely not cold.

            I’m dimly aware of him leaving my side before the door closes and locks.

            My brain is full with questions. Why did he give me bread when he could have easily terrorized me?

 

* * *

 

            The only lighting provided is from the torches in the corridor outside. As the sun sets outside accompanied by the drop of temperature, it shrouds me in darkness. Aside from the long-linked shackles binding my ankles to the wall, there is only an empty bucket for relieving myself and a tattered blanket.

            Needing something to wrap myself in, I pull the blanket over my small frame and lie on my side. Since the blanket isn’t enough, I curl up; bringing my knees to my forehead. Fatigue is dangerous when one is exposed to cold elements, as it would be easy for hypothermia to take you.

            Though I don’t feel like sleeping. All I could think of was my empty bed back home that I should be lying in and the dinner I could have consumed had I not drop my nut canister. Ah, food. That bread given to me hasn’t lasted me long and hunger gnaws my insides. Even when hungry, thinking of food doesn’t help a warrior kept a prisoner by their enemies.

            Though it pales with comparison regarding the pain of being separated from my family. From Lexa.

            Throughout the night, I fight to keep myself awake as to not give hypothermia the doorway to killing me. I don’t know how long it’s been until fatigue overtakes me and fall asleep.

            I don’t know how long it’s been but I awake I hear the padlock securing my cell door shut crack open. Heart racing, I press my back against the stone walls as the door opens. I know why they are here.

            Two guards come in and when they grab my arms, it’s like I’m burning alive.

            “No,” I whimper as they unlock the chains from my wrists. “I know nothing. There will nothing I will tell you, please!”

            “Sure, blight,” one scoffs in derision as I’m forced to my feet. They will not break me open. They will not.

            I stomp on one of my captor’s foot. He gasps in pain but that compels him and his companion to tighten their grip and I unsuccessfully attempt to struggle out of their hold as they drag me from my cell.

 

* * *

 

My lungs burn as my screams fill the room. The stench of my burning flesh fills the room as I feel the brand leave my bare back.

            “I will ask you again,” my torturer (Nicolae, I thought they call him) says to me. His fingers grab a handful of my hair; pulling my head up to face him. “What do you know about the Commander?”

            This has been going on for what I assume to be hours. Every time I don’t answer his question, he presses the hot brand to my bare skin. It feels like the next one is always painful than the previous one.

            Hell, I would rather die a thousand deaths then betraying Lexa.

            I collect salvia in my mouth before spitting into his face. He steps backward and wipes the spit from his face.

            “You are making this difficult, are you?” he sneers. He slams my face on the surface of the table. Something warm and sticky oozes from my nose.

“Let me try this again,” he says as I hear metal being heated by a fire. “What do you know about the Commander?”

            “You can go to hell,” I spit out.

            Scorching metal touches my back. Igniting my screams once more.


	4. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m so sorry, Raven Reyes. I literally am. Sorry you had to be introduced like this.

As the rover bumps over rough terrain, my mind is only focused on one thing. Lincoln is dead. Dead. Gone from this world.

            How? Why?

            “Yeah, I’ve left Arkadia and I got Raven in the back of the back of the rover,” Jasper says over the radio. “Everything has gone from bad to worse, alright? You know those pills that Jaha was sending out. Everyone seems to have taken them. It was like a horde of zombies pursued us. Raven is not Raven anymore. No one is themselves anymore.”

            Lexa arches her eyebrow in confusion like she doesn’t understand a word that is said. I could hardly fathom what it means myself. When we hear more of that story, it might make sense.

            “No, I got Clarke with me,” he answers, spitting her name out in resentment. He looks back at us and continues, “and two random Grounder chicks.” He pauses. “Okay. We should find it.”

            He puts down the radio and continues driving.

            “Jasper, please,” Clarke begs. “Talk to me.”

            “I saved your life,” He says. “It’s more then you deserve.”

            Due to the resentment he must have, he must hold her responsible for something. Since I haven’t been with them, I don’t have a clue.

            Clarke pauses and says, “My mother let them shoot at me.”

            “I can see the appeal,” he replies. “Stop talking and look for the cave. Sinclair said it would be around here somewhere.”

            Lexa clears her throat. “Can you explain to me why Lincoln is dead?” she asks. “I thought for certain that the kill order was lifted off him.”

            Jasper scoffs. “No, Grounders didn’t kill him if that’s what you think,” he spits out before he looks back at us. “He was executed on the mud by Pike this morning. Sinclair, he, and Kane were escaping from execution and Pike said it would be one of them or the interned Grounder prisoners. After which, Pike has left Arkadia and hasn’t been back since. ”

            Lincoln decided to sacrifice himself for innocent people. That wouldn’t surprise me. Though he most likely died without a proper cremation ritual to send him back to the Earth. Died in the mud, just like that.

            “I think I see it,” Clarke states, her voice breaking.

            The Rover comes to a screeching halt and as Jasper stops the engine, Clarke takes her bag before leaving the passenger seat. Jasper opens the back door. “Now, will you two step aside?” he asks. He scoops the unconscious girl – who must be Raven – in his arms before jumping from the back of the Rover. Lexa hesitates before carefully stepping out of the Rover and I jump out after her.

            “I need your help!” Jasper shouts as I scan the trees. “We have to get her inside before she wakes up!”

            Seeing that there is no one watching us, I walk towards the front of the rover.

            “Were you followed?” asks a male voice. He sounds older given how it’s deeper then Jasper’s.

            “Maybe,” Jasper answers frantically. “I don’t know.”

            “Give her here,” the other boy requests and he is handed Raven before disembarking to the cave. As we approach the cave, a black haired girl looks at Lexa with recognition. As if Lexa came back from the dead.

            “Lexa?” she asks. “Aren’t you supposed to be dead?”

            “It would seem that way, yes,” Lexa answers.

            “Lexa, Costia, what are you waiting for?” we hear Clarke demand. “Octavia, we need you.”

            “Looks like now is not the time to answer such questions,” I deduce before taking Lexa’s hand and steering her towards the cave.

            The ground steepens under us as we approach yellow light in the cave. “Clear some space,” Clarke orders.

            An older man and a young dark skinned boy rush forward and the former moves aside a lamp. “What in the world happened to her?” the latter asks as they lie her down on the ground.

            “I told Sinclair on the radio,” Jasper points out to him. “Raven is not Raven anymore. None of them are. Your father has been chipping everyone.”

            “Chipped,” Lexa iterates. “What is that supposed to mean? Some kind of mind control?”

“Now you ask,” Jasper retorts as the other boy walks around towards us. He cocks his head to the side. With the light, I could see that his face is cut and bruised up.

            “Lexa, I thought you were supposed to be dead,” he assumes. “Explain why you are here?”

            Lexa opens her mouth –

            “Now is not the time for that question,” Clarke points out. “Jasper is right. I have seen it with my own eyes.”

            “I don’t need your help, alright?” Jasper snaps, pointing at her.

            Bellamy rushes to him. “Just take it easy and explain,” Bellamy requests.

            “Jaha is using the chips to control everyone,” he explains, looking at Bellamy and not at Clarke. “You swallow it and it changes you. You forget who you are, and then you see this thing, A.L.I.E. Only she’s not really there. She made Raven slit her own wrists. She was trying to get her out of her head.”

            “A.L.I.E,” Lexa mutters before saying louder. “Bekka Pramheda’s creation before _Praimfaya_.”

            “What?” Jasper asks, looking at Lexa. “Can you explain that to us, please?”

            “A year before the bombs fell, the First Commander created an artificial intelligence to aid in the betterment of the human race,” Lexa explains before scoffing and she spits out, “Apparently she thought overpopulation was the root problem. Keeping her contained didn’t stop her from activating the nuclear launch codes.”

            “And from what it sounds like, it’s like she is pulling something from the Body Snatchers,” I iterate.

            “When Becca descended from space, she prohibited the use of tech and forbade everyone to go near the Source Location of _Praimfaya_ ,” Lexa continued. “She thought that if A.L.I.E. was deprived of tech and human contact, it would starve her out.”

            “Looks like she didn’t do a good job from the sounds of it,” Bellamy scoffs. “Otherwise we wouldn’t be having this problem.

            “Anyway, I was trying to help Raven,” Jasper continues, his voice breaking, as if Lexa didn’t interrupt him moments ago, “but –”

            “Okay,” the older man (perhaps Sinclair) cuts in. “Let’s help her now. Did she say how?”

            “She was working on building something,” Jasper answers. “She needed one of her old wristbands but Jaha destroyed all of them.”

            “Wait a second,” Clarke indicates, like a thought entered her mind. Clarke looks at Lexa. “May I see the container?” she asks.

            Lexa places her hand on her breast securely. “The objective was that we only present it when we see Luna,” Lexa aggravates. “The Flame will be unsecure if we leave it in the open.”

            “Just for a visualized reference, Lexa,” Clarke insists. “It’s not going anywhere.”

            Lexa furrows her brow and narrows her eyes before pressing her lips together. She sighs before reaching in her jacket and pulling out the container. “Only because you insisted, Clarke,” she drawls, handing Clarke the container.

            She opens the container and holds out the Flame, “Does it look like this?” she asks.

            At that, I see Raven slightly lift her head and open her eyes. As if the Flame catches her attention. Blast, Clarke!

            “Not exactly,” Jasper answers.

            “Wait, I think I recognize it slightly,” says the boy who helped Raven lie down. I look to see him holding a blue pill and he holds it to the Flame. “My father gave this to me, thinking I would change my mind to join him. They both have the infinity symbol. They have to be connected.”

Suddenly, I find myself lying on the stone cave floor. Someone else is shoved to the ground as well.

            “Don’t let her get away!” Clarke urgently exclaims as Lexa helps me to my feet. Lexa runs out of the cave after Clarke and Bellamy and I find myself running after them.

Outside, two people restrain Raven, who’s shouting “Let me go!” and struggling in their grip. Bellamy and two others join in restraining her before Jasper injects something into her neck. Rendering her unconscious.

“Reaper stick,” explains Jasper. “Last dose.”

“We have to go,” Clarke points out.

“Why?” Bellamy asks. “A.L.I.E. doesn’t know where we are.”

“Because I know where we can get a wristband,” Clarke explains.

 

* * *

 

Apparently while trekking through the wilderness for three months, Clarke became acquainted with a daughter of a post trader, Niylah; who was apparently in possession of a metal wristband last time she knew. From what I heard, Niylah’s father Roman was among the casualties of the slain army. He wasn’t there to fight from what Echo heard but was in charge of the supplies they had.

Something tells me that it will be a ugly encounter.

(“Can you explain that other Grounder chick?” I heard Jasper ask as someone started the Rover.

“Her name is Costia,” Clarke explains. “Apparently, the Ice Nation captured her and sent Lexa a head to make her think she was dead. Turns out it wasn’t the case. To put it simply, she and Lexa…you could say they were a item back in the day.”)

Raven is blindfolded with her wrists bound in front of her before she is loaded to the back of the rover, and apparently the six of us are sandwiched in the back of the rover.

“So, we hear that Lexa was dead and it turns out that she isn’t,” Bellamy deduces. “Is there someone in Polis taking charge of things?”

“Actually, we need to tell you why I came back,” Clarke answers. “Something has happened in Polis.”

Lexa and Clarke go off in a tangent about Titus’s poorly executed attempt to frame Skaikru for Clarke’s death to drive Lexa to declare war, everything leading up to the Conclave before Ontari hacked off the sleeping novitiates’ heads. I insert my own commentary.

“I ordered two of my guard to keep a eye on Ontari to ensure that she didn’t do anything rash but she must have gotten under their noses,” I said at one point.

            Clarke finishes, as she’s holding the Flame: “That is why we need to find Luna.”

            “Luna doesn’t want to be found,” Octavia says monotonously.

            “There is a map in Lincoln’s journal,” Clarke states. “Do you have it?”

            “No,” Octavia answers. “It’s back in Arkadia.”

            “Octavia, we need that journal,” Clarke pleads. “It’s what Lincoln would have wanted.”

            Really? She really thinks that Lincoln would agree to this when in reality he would have shot down this journey? Luna fled the Conclave for a life of pacifism with the _Floukru_ , they said. Lincoln was a warrior but he it was no secret that he embraced pacifism over _Jus Drein Jus Daun_ , last time I knew five years ago.

“Tell me what Lincoln would have wanted,” Octavia snaps.

“Clarke comes back with Lexa and her girlfriend from the dead to save the Grounders,” Bellamy retorts. “What else is new?”

“This isn’t about _Trikru_ , Bellamy,” Lexa snaps. “ _Azgeda_ has had bad blood with other clans, especially _Trikru_ , but currently their main beef is with _Skaikru_. When Ontari finds the chance, she will wipe all of you out and I guarantee that she will unless we find the rightful person to host the Flame.”

“Pretty rich that you care for us all of the sudden after leaving my people to die in Mount Weather three months ago,” Bellamy scoffs.

Lexa begins to open her mouth to speak before her features soften into somberness and her eyes are downcast, like she knows that any defense that she comes up with are fruitless. Even if she had the best intentions for her people, leaving _Skaikru_ to their own devices would be a dishonorable move as they were _Trigeda_ ’s allies at the time. Leaving our allies, even if we think is for the best for our clan, is against the code of Trigeda. Someone from Trikru would rather die than betraying their brother or sister.

However, I forgive her for I know she would not have made that decision if not for my capture five years ago.

“Guys, I know we been through hell and back but for once, we should disregard differences,” pitches in the boy at the front passenger seat. Or Wells as they call him. “This us vs. them mentality is only to waste our time. Right now, we have to focus on how to get to the bottom of this A.I. dilemma. Also, we don’t need a Commander who wants our heads all the times.”

“How could you be so sure?” Bellamy asks him.

“Well, weren’t you the one who said that we were Grounders while Tristan and Anya’s army was descending on the Dropship four months ago?” Wells asks. “We’re in this together, considering that the two threats we face at the moment might merge.”

* * *

 

**_Five Years Ago_ **

            I lay curled up in the threadbare blanket as the cold sweeps into the cell. Trying to shield my tender feet from the cold as a result of the foot whipping I was subjected to the previous day..

            Another day it was something different but I suspect that today might be different. That today is the final day of my life.

            It was five days since I was snatched from my home territory, though those days seemed to have stretched and blended together. Five days and everything they tried to get me to crack has failed.

            Branding me, water boarding me, horse whipping me, and foot whipping never cracked me open. Even in the worst pain imaginable didn’t break me open. It pales in comparison with what happened the night of the day I was captured.

            Instinctively, I bury my head under the blanket. Trying to shield my body from view even though I’m fully clothed. Even though I’m the only one in here.

            These days were brutal. Though every other day, I would find dried fruit nestled on the food tray they push through the door. I don’t know why they would bother, though I highly suspect it was the eldest prince since he gave me that loaf of bread.

            I have no idea why he would bother and I strongly distrust him for these sympathetic gestures. There is no way he would get away defying his mother and not get punished for showing sympathy to a political prisoner. If a member of the enemy shows any degree of kindness, they are more worthy of distrust. That they are hiding something malicious behind a sympathetic façade.

            I could think about home but that it’s like an indescribable pain runs through my body at the thought of home. I don’t want to imagine what my father must be thinking. What my siblings must be thinking. What Lexa must be thinking. The pain and the anger. The possibility that the next time they see me again would be in the form of my detached head.

            It’s like my world shakes and as I wipe away the tears running down my face, I hear the padlock crack open before the door opens.

            I don’t fight as they pull me to my feet. As they clamp my wrists in chains. As they steer me from the cell. For I know why they came. I didn’t crack, so I would no longer be useful to the queen.

            I’m sorry, Lexa. Sorry for the pain I will put you through with my death but I could just not betray you.

 

* * *

 

            The pair of double doors open and I’m pushed inside. The Queen is present but her children are not. I suppose that they don’t want to be there when the blood spills after she slices my head off. Though they wouldn’t have cared in the slightest.

            Not even her eldest son, for that matter.

            “Costia, as promised, your highness,” says the one of the guard as I’m pushed to my knees.

            She smirks in satisfaction. “Excellent,” she says. She stands up to her full height and orders. “Bring her to her feet, as it would make it harder if she’s on her knees.”

            Oh, I thought one has to be on their knees when they are decapitated. The two guards bring me up to my feet as Nia approaches me. She takes a knife from her belt and grabs one of my shackled hands.

            She then proceeds to drag the tip of her knife across my palm. My black blood oozes out from the fresh cut but what’s strange is Nia’s reaction. Her eyes widen, akin to a child at Christmas time. Her finger runs against the cut and she examines the evidence. Intrigued by what she sees.

            “I see that Nicolae is right,” she says. “You are a Nightblood.” She looks at the two surroundings me. “Those chains will not be necessary.”

            Confusion shifts the contents of my brain as they unlock the shackles off my wrists. Instead of killing me, she merely checked the color of my blood to verify a claim?

            “You were lucky that Nicolae reported to me about your Nightblood status yesterday evening,” Nia tells me. “If not, your head would be rolling on the floor by now and it would have been a waste.”

            So, I have technically have not outlived my usefulness. Yet, my skin crawls as I wonder what Nia has in store in me.

            “From my knowledge, Nightbloods are either selected for the Conclave or set aside so they could produce more down their family tree,” she continues. “Training for the Conclave is out of the question for you. The next option would be marrying you off to Roan, my eldest son, but since you are only fourteen years of age and therefore too young, that can’t happen yet. My third option would be installing you as part of the Royal Guard for the time being and if I’m correct, the White Forest patrol division has one vacancy.”

            Of course she wouldn’t want me to be Commander, as I would draw attention. The use of _yet_ of the second option and _time being_ for the third option is what grabbed my attention. It heavily implies that the second option hasn’t been pushed from her mind. That the idea of having a _Natblida_ in the _Azgeda_ royal bloodline is attractive to her and that she plans to wed me off to her son when I reach of age.

            I channel every ounce of resentment and disgust into a scowl. I would rather be decapitated and have my head in a box then serve someone the likes of her. Not to mention I loathe the idea of marrying her brat of a son. He did give me bread once and has been slipping me dried fruit but acts of kindness that are most likely concealing sinister intent does not speak of one’s character.

            “I apologize but I would rather die than serve your guard,” I spit out. “Much less marry your son.”

            Queen Nia steps back. Like I slapped her in the face. “What a shame,” she sighs. “A shame that you feel that way.” She turns around and walks away, like she is pondering in thought. “It would be a shame if I sent some of my scouts to cross the border and keep watch for your siblings. I could bring them here if you want and therefore their heads would accompany yours when I send them to your father. Just like we did with your eldest sister.”

            It’s like someone pulled my heart violently from my chest and crushed it. My eyes prick with tears. No, no, no! I would not allow my remaining siblings to suffer the same fate that will be given to me due to my selfishness. Father is already hardened enough from losing mother to Mount Weather and my sister’s demise at the hands of Ice Nation. I’m not that selfish to have father lose all of us.

            “I will do what you ask of me,” I plead. “Just leave my brother and sister out of this.”

            Queen Nia curls her lips in a smug smirk. Like a predator that’s thrilled that its prey has caught the bait. “Excellent,” she says. “Smart girl.” She turns to the guards in the room and orders, “Bring her in.”

            I don’t know she referred to but two of them leave the throne room.

            “Now that you are in Azgeda, you will have a new identity,” she tells me. “You will no longer be Costia kom Trikru. That girl is dead. You will answer when people address you to by your new identity. You understand me completely?”

            A hold back a chuckle. She hasn’t killed me literally but by forcing me to abandon who I am and recreate a new identity she has killed figuratively. “Yes, your majesty,” I answer hollowly. “And are you going to leave my family out of this?”

            “Yes, as long as you cooperate,” she answers. “However, to answer one unspoken difficult question, don’t worry. I have that taken care of.”

            I turn around to see the guards drag in a young girl about my age. She only resembles me by sharing the exact same face shape and not to mention that her hair is the same shade of blonde as mine.

            “If I know one thing, your lover will be expecting your head if you never spilled anything,” Nia states. “She might not resemble you entirely but we will take care of that problem. When your lover and your family believe you are dead, it will be easy to recreate your identity without any difficulty.”

            I look at the sobbing girl. Tears streaming down her face as a sword is pressed against the area just below her jaw. I could back away from this but doing so will result in my death and that of my siblings. Also, I have a nagging feeling that disfigurement will be involved so Lexa would believe that the head is mine without question.

            Queen Nia gives a nod and the girl’s head is sliced off her neck in seconds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Though it may seem odd to those that are currently reading, I don’t find it odd that Lexa would know about A.L.I.E and the early days of the First Commander’s reign. Especially since she was indwelt with the Flame/A.L.I.E. 2.0 and most likely read the Commander’s Journal before the Conclave.


	5. Chapter Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter answers my own question: What would have A.L.I.E!Raven said to Lexa in 3x11 if Lexa made it past 3x07.

The headlights shine on the ramshackle building as the Rover approaches it. The wind chimes blowing in the wind. As the engine ceases, the occupant leaves the building, a sword in a sheath she is holding. Her stance rigid. Like she is ready to fight.

            “Let me talk to her,” Clarke offers.

            I let out a cold chuckle. For someone that has probably been hardened from her experience on the ground, Clarke is awfully naïve. “You think she might help you after that massacre in the field?” I demand.

            “She should know that I didn’t take part in it,” Clarke insists.

            “Yes, but she would associate you with the people that did,” I spit out.

            “Costia is right, Clarke,” Lexa points out. “You are Skaikru. No matter what attachment you formed with her, the massacre will taint her view on you.”

            “Still, she should know that I had nothing to do with the massacre,” she pleads. “Let me try to talk to her.”

            I sigh. Clarke is not going to give up easy, isn’t she?

            Lexa looks at me, her eyes asking, _What do you say, Costia?_

“Might as well,” I answer.

            “Alright,” Clarke says before departing from the Rover, with Bellamy right behind her. Like he’s afraid something might happen if he left Clarke out of his sight. Lexa and I are the second ones to leave the Rover; with Octavia right behind us.

            As a sword is unsheathed, I heard Octavia mumble, “So much for being our friend.”

            Looks like someone was listening to the conversation with their ears covered.

            As Lexa, Bellamy, and I file behind Clarke, Niylah spits out, “Skaikru is not welcome here, Wanheda.”

            Before Clarke could answer, I hear Wells shout, “She’s waking up. We need to hurry!”

            “Is your father here?” Clarke asks her.

            “My father is dead,” Niylah spits out. “Part of an army killed by your people while trying to protect you.”

            “Niylah, she has nothing to do with what happened,” Lexa pleads. “Let us pass.”

            Niylah turns to Lexa, her eyes widen like she doesn’t understand what she is seeing. “ _Heda_ Lexa? You are supposed to be dead.”

            “Please, let us pass,” Lexa pleads. “It’s urgent.”

            Niylah shakes her head. “I apologize but I in good faith cannot allow people who massacred your army into my trading post.”

            I sigh. We are going nowhere with this.

            “We haven’t got time for this,” Bellamy stresses before taking a gun and pointing it at her. “Move! Move!”

            Niylah is directed towards the side as Bellamy commands, “Put her in there.”

            Lexa and I follow Clarke. Sinclair is behind us; carrying Raven in his arms

            “I told you, my mom was here,” stresses the boy that drove the Rover to this location (or was it Monty, exactly? As that’s what they called him as we follow them in the building). “If she was chipped, A.L.I.E. would know.”

            “Not only A.LI.E. would know,” I hear Wells point out as Lexa, Clarke, and I step in the trading post. “Those that are under her control, like my father, would know.”

            “That’s why we’re putting her in the back,” Clarke assures before pointing towards a corridor, “though there.”

            Sinclair passes us, with Wells right after him; Jasper right behind Wells; with Monty and Octavia following suit. Clarke picks up two pairs of rope from a counter and hurries after them. Leaving Lexa and I in the main room.

            I lean against the counter, looking around the assortment of items in the room. Crates of an assortment of items: furs, metal trinkets and tableware’s, books, and other items that one could think of from the top of their heads. The room smells of dust and rust.

            Hearing screaming causes me to jump and Lexa looks at the direction, her eyes wide. Metal rattles as a bed shakes. People are heard struggling and shouting in effort. Like they are trying to contain someone.

            “Let me go! Let me go!” we hear her scream. My hair stands on end at the base of my neck as a chill creeps down my body. Her screams have a bestial vibe to it. Like she’s not even human.

            As if some demon possessed her.

            The screams continue as Niylah enters the building, with Bellamy’s rifle pointing at her. Niylah looks away from the rifle, only sparing Lexa a short glance before turning to me. Her eyes widen and it’s like all color has left her face. She mouths, “Ice Nation.”

            If it weren’t for the forehead scars and the grey furs on my overcoat signifying my status as Azgeda royalty, I could have easily passed as Trikru. Why does Echo have that ability and not me? Oh, because she was assigned for the espionage unit of the Royal Guard. That’s why.

            The curtains separate and Clarke, Sinclair, and Monty file out of the room. All three visibly shaken.

            “How do we get that thing out of her head?” Clarke asks.

            “We’re working on it,” Monty answers.

            “Untie me! Untie me!” Raven is heard yelling from the room as Clarke approaches Bellamy and Niylah.

            “I got this,” Clarke assures.

            Bellamy hesitates for a moment before he says, “I’ll be right here.” He walks away and lowers his gun before reaching to the other side of the room.

            Clarke looks back at him before turning back to Niylah. “Niylah, we didn’t have a choice,” Clarke explains. “Our friend can’t see you or this room until she gets better.”

            “Why?” Niylah demands.

            “It’s hard to explain,” Clarke answers.

            “You will get nowhere, Clarke,” Lexa mutters under her breath as she approaches Niylah, her arms folded. “Apparently, _Bekka Pramheda’s_ first creation has made her reappearance. Giving the masses a blue chip and going into their heads, Raven among them.” Lexa looks back before continuing, “According to Clarke, you possess something that could help remove the A.I. from her head. However, you are going to have to trust Clarke to hand it over.”

            “Trust her?” Niylah demands. “After what _Skaikru_ did to your army? My father?”

            “That wasn’t us,” Clarke quickly defends. “I’m sorry about your father.” She looks back at Bellamy. “We all are.”

            Bellamy slightly nods before Clarke turns back to Niylah.   

            “What do you want from me?” Niylah asks.

            “Last time I was here, you had one of our wristbands,” Clarke answers. “We need it now to save our friend.”

            “And why should I help you?” prodded Niylah.

            “Because I know you won’t let an innocent girl suffer,” Clarke puts forth.

            Niylah pauses, as if considering Clarke’s request before replying, “Stay here.”

            After Niylah turns away, opens the door, and closes it behind her, Clarke turns to Bellamy and asks, “Are you okay?”

            “Fine,” he chokes.

            Something tells me that it is not okay. As if something has been eating away at him. I know that place all too well.

 

* * *

 

            It’s only been a minute before Niylah’s absence. When she comes back, she is holding a metal wristband. “Here,” she offers, handing it to Clarke. “You can go into the workshop over there. As you could work on that creation to save your friend in private.”

            “Thanks, Niylah,” Clarke breathes. Holding the wristband, she and Bellamy go to the room which Niylah gestured to. With Sinclair and Monty following them. Leaving Octavia, Lexa, and I in the trading room.

            Raven’s screams have quieted down. Jasper and Wells haven’t returned from the backroom. Most likely keeping watch.

            Octavia goes to sit by the fireplace as Lexa and I sit down. I could feel her undoing the yarn partially restraining my hair and letting it fall loose. Her fingers reach the hair on the right side of my head and I feel her begin to weave the strands together. I close my eyes as I curve my lips into a smile.

            It’s like we’re children again. Braiding each other’s hair when she wasn’t training for the Conclave. Back before the full harsh realities entered our lives. Back before we were violently torn apart from each other. It’s like a weight is being lifted from my chest after five years of virtually suffocating.

            “I never thought I would touch your hair again,” Lexa breathes as I feel her further her progress on the braid.             “I missed how the sun’s rays reflected off your locks.”

            I chuckle, “You always said it was like my hair was weaved from gold,” I muse. “I remember that well.”

            She is silent as she secures the braid before beginning to work on the other side of my head. “Costia, do you love him?” she asks.

            Her question catches me off guard. “What?” I ask.

            “Do you love Roan?” she asks. It is not a question out of jealousy but there is just a gentle curiosity in her tone. Turning to glance at her, her emerald eyes are the same way. Just curiosity with no trace of jealousy.

            “He is a friend,” I assure her as I turn my head forward so she could continue on my braids. “He helped me survive my virtually imprisonment in Azgeda. Like the big brother I never had.”

            That might not be accurate as siblings don’t get in bed with each other, though they say that lovers often feel like they are family. It was like we were straddling the line between friends and lovers.

            Though I ask her, “Since you asked me, I will ask you: do you love Clarke?”

            There is a silence in behind me, like my question caught her off guard. “I won’t hold it against you no matter what you say,” I assure her.

            I hear her side as she continues with the braid. “Yes, I love her,” she sighs. “I don’t know but when I first met her, that fire in her personality reminded me of you. Things about her reminded me of you, especially the ease when it came to treating a simple wound. I made it my goal to protect her from my enemies, no matter what it took, even if she understandably hated me for it.”

            While I engaged in comfort sex with Roan just to find some sort of intimate relationship, it was like Lexa tried filling that void that I used to occupy before my captivity in Azgeda. That she wanted to fix the past, change it to where she saved her lover from danger. Even if was by proxy and if it wasn’t good for the relationship she formed with that person.

            Both of us sought unhealthy routes to find intimate validation in others.

            “Well, you weren’t lying when you said we have some things in common,” I remind her.

            We hear two pairs of footsteps and I look to see Octavia and Monty leaving the room without a word but with a sense of urgency. Lexa finishes the braid and works on the two tufts of hair that followed the braids on the side of my head.

            “Well?” I hear Lexa ask as I hear two more footsteps enter the room.

            “We got most of it together,” Clarke answers. “All we need is a piece of circuitry from the Dropship. We should be able to use the EMP to get A.L.I.E. out of Raven’s head in just a few hours.”

            “Wouldn’t that damage her brain?” Lexa asks.

            “It shouldn’t,” Bellamy insists. “Not if it was Raven’s idea in the first place.”

            “Clarke! Bellamy! We need your help!” Wells shouts from the back.

            Lexa drops my hair as Clarke and Bellamy run towards the curtains. Lexa follows and I run after them. Following them into the room, I stop when I see it. Tied to the bed, her right arm visibly out of its socket, Raven’s left forearm is bleeding as she’s trying to bite out of the restraints. Both Wells and Jasper appear mortified by the sight.

            I could feel the nausea creeping up as cold sweat gathers on the back of my neck.

            “Stop her,” Clarke commands.          

            “Jasper! Get that side!” Bellamy orders, pointing to the other side of the bed. Jasper complies and Bellamy follows him.

            “She’s reopened her wounds,” Clarke notes.

            “Get away from me!” Raven screams, turning her torso towards Clarke. “Get away from me!”

            “She’s going to bleed to death!” Clarke agonizes. “I need bandages.”

            Raven growls as Bellamy assures, “I got her!”

            It doesn’t take long for Clarke to get a roll of bandages, and during that time Raven was still fighting Bellamy’s grip and growling.

            “Raven, stop fighting us,” Clarke yells.

            Raven rocks on the bed as Clarke unrolls the bandage. She rips a piece and throws it to Wells, who begins working on her left forearm.

            “A.L.I.E,” says Jasper. “A.L.I.E. A.L.I.E! Look at me. I know you can hear us. Why are you doing this to her. Let her go.”

            “I’ll let her go,” says the A.I possessing her, “when you give me what I want.” Raven’s head turns to Clarke. “The technology that Clarke carries, it belongs to me.”

            “No way,” Clarke retorts.

            “Clarke, just give it to her,” Jasper prods.

            “Just offer her the Flame, Clarke,” Lexa pleads.

            Clarke nods slightly and without withdrawing her gaze from Raven, she threatens, “If you let Raven die, you’ll never get it.”

            Raven looks towards the foot of the bed before slumping.

            “Untie her wrists,” Clarke tells Bellamy. “Hold her steady.”

            As they untie her wrist, Raven’s arm pops back into its socket.

            “Clarke, she’s never going to stop trying to get away,” Bellamy points out as he wraps the bandage around her other forearm. “We can’t let her hurt herself again. Someone has to stay with her.”

            “I’ll be first watch,” Clarke offers. “We’ll take turns.”

            “You don’t give the orders, Clarke,” Jasper snaps. After which he breathes heavily.

            “Guess he doesn’t forgive you for murdering his girlfriend,” Raven insinuates.

            “Jasper, take a break,” Bellamy advises.

            “If being here isn’t healthy for you, I would take Bellamy’s advice,” Wells points out. “I’ll stay with Clarke and we will both look after Raven.”

            Jasper leaves and we leave Clarke and Wells in the room with Raven.

 

* * *

 

            In the trading room, I decide to rest my head and close my eyes for a few minutes. Knowing that I might have to be up as something might require my attention. The sound of pages turning and a lock being fiddled with plays in the background. I hear a conversation take place and though the words aren’t clear, I could tell by the tenor that it is unpleasant.

            Someone leaves their chair and when the door opens and closes, I sit right up and open my eyes.

            “It’s okay, Costia,” Lexa assures, looking from a book. “Jasper just left the building.”

            I heave a sigh before slumping into my chair. “It’s not like I’ll get sleep tonight anyway,” I say.

            “Don’t worry,” Bellamy assures as he walks towards us. “You should be able to get some sleep after we fix Raven.”

            Looking again at Bellamy’s face, I notice that the cuts and bruises that I saw earlier look recent. As if someone had continually hit him in the face the previous morning. “Bellamy, how did your face get banged up?” I ask him.

            I see that he swallows hard. “It’s nothing,” he chokes.

            It’s nothing. When someone usually says that, they are hurting worse than they let on. Then again, that’s what I do, right?

            “Bellamy, I have said that many times myself to others over the past five years,” I point out. “Something is wrong.”

            He sighs. “You won’t understand if I tell you,” he stresses.

            “I will be able to understand,” I assure. “I have been through agonizing pain and I understand if others go through it. Physical or emotional.”

            He looks cautiously at Lexa, who has set her book down and watching him with concern, before saying, “I offered to help Octavia save Lincoln. Pike trusted me. Trusted me enough that I would have ensured Lincoln’s escape under his nose. But Octavia wouldn’t let me. She kept me in a cave and had me chained to a rock while she tried the attempt.” He sniffs and his voice breaks. “I knew she wouldn’t be able to, as I know what Pike might come up with. I didn’t have to ask what happened when she returned without Lincoln. I let her take her anger out on me, though Wells and Miller tried to stop her.”

            He let someone do this to him after failing in saving Lincoln? He allowed someone to take her anger out on him and beat up his face? That is…unhealthy.

            “Bellamy, you shouldn’t be allowed to let someone treat you like a punching bag,” I point out. “You have to fight back when someone does that to you.”

            “You expect me to fight back at my own sister?” he demands, his voice shaking in grief.

            His sister? I feel the blood rush to my face. That makes the story even worse. I would never hit my brother and sister, even if they angered me.

            “Just because one is family that doesn’t mean that you shouldn’t take their abuse,” I point out.

            “Also, your sister shouldn’t hold you responsible for Lincoln’s death,” Lexa points out. “If anything, she was responsible for it if she refused your help.”

            Bellamy opens his mouth when we hear Clarke shout, “Shut up!”

            We turn towards the curtains before Raven let’s out a short scream. Bellamy and Lexa run towards the back.

            “You’re done, A.L.I.E, you hear me?!” Clarke cries out from the back. “We’re going to fry you!” She continues yelling and I watch as Lexa, Bellamy, and Wells drag her into the trading room just after Jasper enters through the curtains.

            “Calm down,” Bellamy advises as they let her go.

            “Calm down?” Clarke demands. “Did you hear what she said? She said that I was responsible for my father’s death. That everyone dies because of me.”

            “Clarke, that was not Raven,” Wells defends. “It was all the A.I. Raven wouldn’t have actually said those things if it wasn’t in her head.”

            “Wells is right,” Bellamy agrees. “That wasn’t Raven that spoke.”

            “She might even apologize after we get that A.I. out of her head,” Lexa assures.

            Their words don’t prevent Clarke from collapsing into Bellamy’s arms in tears.

 

* * *

 

            It’s been three minutes since Clarke’s outburst and Clarke said it was Lexa’s and my turn to keep watch on Raven.

            The A.I. might not be in our heads but that might not stop Raven from throwing barbs us while under A.L.I.E’s influence. As we enter the room, she turns towards us and her gaze follows us as we sit on the chairs at the other side of the room.

            “So, the Commander and her long-thought-dead lover are keeping watch over me,” she muses before looking over at Lexa. “Shouldn’t you be in Polis exerting your dominance over everyone else?”

            Lexa’s face flushes pink. “Her name is Costia,” she spits out, “and I have stepped down from my role as Commander. Everyone but a select few believe that I’m deceased.”

            “How I remember, you were quite enjoying that power when you tied me to a tree and allowed people to torture me for a crime your bodyguard committed,” Raven spits out.

            Lexa turns white as a sheet. “I – that decision was made in poor judgment,” Lexa stammers. “I am sorry. I should have kept my eye on Gustus as soon as he voiced his disapproval on the alliance.”

            “Sorry,” Raven scoffs with a smirk. “Like I believe that. It’s ironic how you killed your own bodyguard to keep an alliance together before turning around to leave us for dead in the Mountain after taking a deal. So much about valuing honor. So much for reminding yourself that it was for Clarke’s benefit, when we all know better. You were broken. Still empty after that disfigured head was delivered to your bed. You were willing to do anything to fill that void when you met Clarke. You desperately wanted to fix the mistakes you believe you made with Costia and tried to protect her by proxy, even if it meant using Roan to drag Clarke into Polis against her will before breaking your promise to not implicate him in his clan’s misdeeds in return for bringing Clarke to you, but what do I know? A promise is nothing to you, right?”

            “I…” Lexa breaths, her eyes glassy. Like every last defense was taken out of her. As if she knew she couldn’t defend herself because she knew that every word that was said was true.

            “When Mount Weather exploded and Nia conveniently showed her face in Polis, you just had to avenge dear Costia,” Raven continues. “Turns out, she was in Ice Nation all that time and that killing Nia was for nothing. But hey, at least you accomplished one thing: demonstrating your power over the Coalition.”

            Lexa lifts herself from her chair. “I have to see what their progress is,” she rasps before leaving the room.

            Raven turns to me and smirks. “Looks like it’s just the two of us,” she says.

            I get up from the chair, not wanting to be verbally torn down.

* * *

 

**_Five Years Ago_ **

            The scars on my back and arms sting from my wounds being treated and my body cleansed. Scratchy due to the clothes I was forced to put on afterwards. Touching my hair, I could feel the absence of my braids. My braids would look out of place, they said as they were unweaving them.

            Standing in the drawing room to wait for who I was told that the head of the Royal Guard, I stare at the windows. Looking out at the scene from below. Watching as someone places the box containing the disfigured head at the back of the wagon. If I’m correct, it might arrive to Polis tomorrow at noon.

            I lower my head as tears stream down my cheeks. I willingly sacrificed the life of an innocent girl just so my siblings would not have their heads decapitated like me if I refused Nia’s offer. There is no guarantee that she would keep her word but if my brother and sister are threatened, I will do anything to protect them.

            I wipe my eyes on my sleeve as I hear the doors to the drawing room open. Turning around, I see that it’s Roan. The blood drains from the surface of my face and I stand rigid.

            “ _So the eldest prince is paying me a visit_ ,” I say. “ _Coming to ogle me since your mother is going to force you on me in a few years_.”

            He rolls his eyes in irritation. “ _Very funny, Eirwen_ ,” he answers. “ _As if I am that type of person_.”

            _Eirwen_. The name that the Queen has given me as Costia would stand out. It was a Trikru name and since I’m no longer considered Trikru, it wasn’t fitting. I am supposed to answer to this name but I still ball my hands into fists and glare at him.

            “ _That is not my name_ ,” I hiss quietly.

            “ _And this is the reason I’m here_ ,” he drawls. “ _If my memory serves me correctly, it was said that you were too stubborn when they tried to get you to crack open. Now, that fire might come useful but if you do what you just did, you are in for a world of trouble_.”

            Narrowing my eyes, I sit on the aged armchair at the table. What are his intentions exactly? “ _Now, why are you here, your highness_?” I ask, making sure to spit out the last two words in malice.

            “ _My mother has placed you in the White Forest patrol division of the Royal Guard_ ,” he answers, seemingly unfazed by my tone. “ _They are in charge of monitoring the situation around the capitol. I have served patrol with them as part of punishment once and they are not pleasant to people who don’t conform_.”

            So, they will treat me like dirt if I don’t conform. Problem is, they will know I’m not born here and use that to treat me like dirt regardless.

            “ _They will treat me like dirt anyway since I’m not born here,_ ” I point out. “ _The people of the Woods and Ice Nation are mortal enemies. Like vampires and lycanthropes_.”

            “ _True, but if you give the appearance that you are conforming, they will cease to walk all over you,_ ” Roan reckons.

            “ _You want me to appear content and to conform to avoid further misery_?” I deduce, when I read his intentions. I would rather be dead then to engage in that conversation. I don’t tell him that though.

            “ _Yes_ ,” he answers. “ _You don’t have to change necessarily but if you keep up the act, my people will see you as one of them_.”

            “ _You make it sound easy when it’s difficult_ ,” I point out. “ _Especially since no one would want to associate with me due to my status as Lexa’s lover and considering my father’s position as the military leader of the Woods Clan_.”

            “ _I have that problem taken care of_ ,” he affirms.

            I shake my head. He has the choice to be indifferent towards me. To see me as a piece of meat to have his way with a few years later. And here he is, giving me advice about how to live here.

            “ _I don’t understand_ ,” I point out. “ _What do you have to gain from making sure I’m comfortable? Why did you give me that small loaf of bread when you could have easily left me to eat the stale stuff? Why the dried fruit?_ ”

            “ _I had nothing to gain_ ,” he tells me. “ _And in case you are wondering, I gave you the bread because I thought you might want to experience some form of kindness_.”

 

* * *

 

            Johann, a swarthy man that stands over six foot, leads me from the palace down the concrete paths. Behind the palace, is a five story dilapidated building with vines creeping up it’s stone façade.

            “ _That is housing for the Royal Guard_ ,” he explains, “ _where you would have been staying if the circumstances were different. The Queen doesn’t trust anyone below the ranks to sleep in a room with you if they saw you slice your finger_.”

            Of course, she wouldn’t want word to spread that she has a Natblida in her possession. Nightbloods can only be found in the eleven clans residing in the Coalition since Ice Nation decried her methods in the beginning.

            “ _Therefore, she thought it would be best if you had different sleeping arrangements_ ,” he continued as we pass the Royal Guard housing. “Rest assured, I swore my daughter to secrecy this morning.”

            Past the Royal Guard housing is a cabin that was probably built after the bombs fell as it does not have the same dilapidated but sturdy quality as the rest of the buildings. Most likely his private residence since he is the head of the Royal Guard. As I scale it, I could see smoke coming from the chimney and when we get closer, I could smell the aroma of beef, potatoes, and bread wafting from the house. Someone is cooking something in there.

            He turns the wooden knob and opens the door. “ _Aline, hopefully you will spare a fourth plate_ ,” he says as I follow him in the residence. The walls are the same as its façade, with a living area to my left and a kitchen/dining area to my right, where I see a brown haired woman removing a metal sheet from a cast iron stove. She gazes at us, her eyes gazing at me critically as she limps to the table and sets the sheet down. Her left eye is clouded with a long and jagged scar running down over it.

            “ _I see that this is the blight that the Queen wants us to room and board_ ,” she stresses as she removes the gloves from her hands. “ _Hopefully you reconsidered your plan to place her up in the loft with Echo_.”

            “ _If Echo protested, I would have_ ,” he replies, approaching Aline. “ _She will be fine_ ,” he continues, rubbing his hands down her arms before kissing her cheek. She looks at me, sending me a glare that would have sent me six feet under if she wanted to.

            “ _Just because she didn’t protest, doesn’t mean I like it_ ,” she scoffs, untying her apron from her back.

            The door opens and a gust of frigid air enters the room as soon as it leaves.

            “ _Finally_ ,” a girl breathes and I look to see her lowering her hood; revealing her light brown tresses. “ _Another hour of Prince Aspen gawking at me would have been another hour of restraining myself from slicing his throat. He’s lucky that_ –” she stops in midsentence when she sees me standing. Instead of a disgusted scowl that I was expecting, her eyes widen. No, not in surprise. More of a _so this is that person they were talking about_. She steps forward and I feel smaller from her height.

            She couldn’t be older then seventeen.

            “ _This is the one who is living with us?_ ” she asks curiously.

            “ _As I said this morning_ ,” he states. He touches her shoulder before saying, “ _Echo, this is Eirwen, the newest addition of the Royal Guard’s White Forest patrol division. Eirwen, this is my daughter, Echo. She is part of the palace patrol and the espionage division_.”

            Gulping, I offer my hand. “ _Pleasure_ ,” I choke.

            She only hesitates for a second before her hand grasps mine and shakes it. “ _I only heard a handful about you, though it’s probably not wise to broadcast it before lunch_ ,” she says, withdrawing her hand from mine. “ _I doubt it will be good for your digestion and our digestion_.”

            It’s surprising that she wouldn’t consider my imprisonment and why I was spared as table talk. Given that she’s palace patrol and her lack of hostility, I remember Roan’s words from earlier. About him taking care of the problem of no one wanting to associate with me.

            Did he make some deal with her?

            “ _Now, let’s eat before the food gets cold, shall we?_ ” Aline asks, like the conversation before her didn’t happen. “ _I made your favorite, Echo. Corn and beef pasties_.”

            “ _Brilliant_ ,” she beams, a big smile on her face.

            The table has three carved chairs surrounding it, though Johann brings a stool from near a lit fireplace to place at the other side of the table for me to sit. I sit on the stall, watching as the family arranges pasties, potatoes, and bread on their pewter plates.

            Though Echo pushes her plate and silverware towards me before leaving her seat to a cupboard; retrieving a additional plate and a few pieces of silverware.

            “ _That wasn’t necessary, Echo_ ,” Aline says as Echo returns to her seat.

            “ _I was just being polite, mother_ ,” Echo explains, as she cuts the bread with a knife. I watch as she arranges her plate before picking up a jug. Pouring steaming hot chocolate in one metal cup. Pushing it towards my plate before serving herself.

            Since everyone is served, only do I feel comfortable to eat. I pick up my knife and fork before beginning to cut up my pasty.

            “ _Aside from the Queen having us room and board a former prisoner, what else should I be aware of?”_ Aline asks.

            “ _All I know is that a Queen sent that decoy head to the Commander an hour ago_ ,” Johann answers. “ _We have until tomorrow to see what comes from Polis. In the meantime, she is requiring extra security detail throughout the city tomorrow if the Commander declares an attack in retaliation. Thade is lending his warriors for the process_.”

            Lexa? Attacking out of retaliation? What? She’d never – If she did, it would be incredibly out of character of her considering her efforts, last time I knew.

            I open my mouth to talk but quickly stuff my mouth with some of the mashed potatoes on my plate, knowing that any words I say will be met with harsh consequences by these people.

            “ _Well, father_ , _considering the information I gathered two weeks ago, it says differently,”_ Echo says. “ _The Commander was thinking about a way to stop the war and invite us in the Coalition._ ”

            It’s true. Before and after her ascension, Lexa said that would be one of the first things she would do as Commander: Cease the war and make Ice Nation the twelfth clan. “This has gone on for nearly two centuries since _Praimfaya_ ,” she said. “I don’t want my legacy to be stained with more blood of our people and more graves. Huron and the other Commanders before him were given that chance to cease the conflict but they chose to continue the war.”

            “ _Given that it was before her lover was captured, whether she will hold true to that plan remains to be seen_ ,” Aline articulates as I attack the pasty. “ _It’s best to prepare for the inevitable, dear. Even if it doesn’t happen_.”

            _Keep your mouth shut, Costia_ , I think as I sip from the cup. _Keep your mouth shut._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The more people that joined A.L.I.E, the more information she received. It's not a stretch to believe that some Grounders were chipped during Jaha's trip to Polis.


	6. Chapter Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yu gonplei ste odon Roan kom Azgeda, Luna kom Floukru, and Ilian kom Trishanakru. The three of you will be missed.

Monty and Octavia have not yet returned from getting what they need for the EMP device, which hasn’t helped with my anxiety considering the A.I. possessed girl in the back.

            Bellamy, Jasper, and Wells have decided to keep watch on her, with Bellamy saying, “I’ll let her beat me up this time.” After the three of them depart to the back, we sit at a table in the corner while Niylah sits by the fireplace near the curtain.

            “When we get that thing out of her head, we’ll be able to focus on giving the Flame to Luna,” Clarke says.

            Lexa, who has been silent for several minutes, clears her throat before looking at Clarke. “Clarke, about what I said about how it was easier to hate me then to hate yourself –” she starts.

            “Don’t apologize, Lexa,” Clarke interrupts, looking at her. “It is done.”

            “No, I never should have placed that burden on your shoulders when I played an indirect part myself,” Lexa persists. “I could have stayed. Faked the deal to that parasite’s face and –”

            “Even if you faked the deal, there is no guarantee that things would have turned out different,” Clarke tries to assure her. “Cage would have been as uncooperative and we would have had to make the same choice that Bellamy and I had to make.”

            “It still doesn’t excuse what I said,” Lexa points out. “I made a promise and I broke it when that parasite gave me the deal. _Trikru_ don’t abandon their allies and I did just that because I was afraid of losing someone again.”

            “Lexa, it might seem odd since I wasn’t there but I have forgiven you for that transgression against our code,” I remind her, stroking her hair with my fingers. “This wouldn’t have happened if Nia didn’t perpetrate dirty politics. Don’t beat yourself too much over it.”

            The curtains move and Jasper comes in. Taking deep breathes and visibly shaking. When he sits down, I could see the sweat running down his face.

            “When Monty and Octavia get back with the circuitry from the Dropship, everything will return back to normal,” Jasper sighs as he leans back against his chair.

            “Things will return to normal when everyone is free from A.L.I.E.’s control,” Clarke says.

            Jasper scoffs. “Like you think it’s possible,” he retorts. “All of Arkadia is chipped.”

            “If it’s just your people, we won’t have anything to worry about,” Lexa theorizes.

            I don’t know. I have the nagging suspicion that it might extend beyond _Skaikru_ and if it does…No! A.L.I.E. knows that I’m alive and if any of my family gets under her control, she will install that piece of information in their heads.

            “I don’t think it will be limited to _Skaikru_ , Lexa,” I point out.

            Something clatters by the fireplace and we look to see Niylah running towards the back.

“No!” Clarke exclaims as she runs out of her seat; followed by Jasper and Lexa.

Following them towards the back, I hear Niylah seethe, “My father! You!”

“Niylah…” Bellamy starts as he stands up.

“You killed him!” she exclaims before striking him across the face.

Clarke grabs her by the arms. “Niylah,” she says. “Niylah. You can’t be in here.”

Though, truth of the matter is –

“A.L.I.E has already seen her, Clarke,” Lexa points out. “It’s too late.”

“She’s right,” Jasper pitches in. “She has.”

Raven draws her gaze to a empty side of the room and smirks as if it was in response to what someone has said. The fact that she is acknowledging a person that we can’t see is utterly creepy.

 

* * *

 

Bellamy, under obvious duress, goes outside. Saying something about getting fresh air. Leaving Lexa, Clarke, Wells, and I in the back with Raven. Raven watches Lexa intently as she unwraps the _fleimkidon_ , which contains the instruments necessary to release the Flame from the person’s body.”

“What are you doing?” Wells asks Lexa.

“A.L.I.E and the Flame were created by the same person,” Lexa answers. Setting the instruments on the end table by the chair she is sitting in. “As you said, people are falling under A.L.I.E’s control by digesting a blue chip. Therefore, once you get through with the EMP, we will remove what is left of the A.I. from the base of her neck. Even if she fries A.L.I.E from her brain, her essence will still remain in her.”

            “Doesn’t that lead up to the brainstem?” Wells asks, skeptical. Yet worried as if it might bring some sort of irreparable damage.

            “I have had the Flame removed from the base of my neck recently,” Lexa points out. “I can assure you that she will be okay.”

            “Lexa was the third Commander to have the Flame removed her while alive,” I point out. “The first was Bekka Pramheda and the second stepped down fifty years ago. The rest of the Commanders have either died in battle or some other various form of death.”

            We hear the door abruptly close and shut; accompanied by the sound of Monty panting as he runs to one of the rooms.

            “They must be back,” Clarke states.

            Conversation is heard outside before Sinclair exclaims, “Everyone, let’s go!”

            Sinclair and Monty enter the room; the latter holding a bulky metal object aligned with knobs and settled on it are wires and the wristband.

            As he sets it on the foot of the bed, Sinclair explains as Bellamy and Octavia file in, “All we have to do is connect her and activate the electromagnet.”

            Wells and Bellamy go on either side of her, with the former untying her restrained wrist. Raven looks straight ahead as Sinclair connects the wires before hitting Wells in the stomach.

            “Hold her still,” Sinclair instructs as Clarke helps Wells up to keep him steady. It could have knocked the wind out of him if the force of the punch was strong enough.

            “Raven,” Clarke exclaims as Raven continues to struggle as they prepare the wristband. As people try to restrain and telling her to hold still, I jump as she starts banging her head against the headboard. The sound of her skull greeting metal grating against my ears.

            “She’s trying to kill herself,” Wells deduces, the blood drained from his face. I find myself holding down one of her legs as nearly everyone crowds around her. With Wells and Octavia putting their hands on either side of her skull as Clarke runs to the end table to grab the container.

            What is she doing?

            With Sinclair, Wells, Octavia, and Bellamy telling Raven to stop, Clarke slides open the container. “Stop,” Clarke commands before holding up the Flame between her fingers, “and I’ll give you this.”

            That did it. With Raven looking at the Flame, Wells reaches forward and clamps the wristband on her wrist. I could now see what Clarke was aiming to accomplish.

            “No, you lied!” Raven exclaims. “You lied!”

            As they bring the wires closer to the wristband, panic appears on her face, and she pleads, “No, please don’t! The EMP will give me brain damage! You know it will! Please don’t do this!”

            “Don’t listen to her,” Octavia snaps.

            “Please. You know it will!” Raven begs as they finish connecting the wires to the device. “Sinclair, stop! No, no”

            “We only got one shot at this,” Sinclair says. “The EMP will fry the wristband too.”

            “Do it,” urges Bellamy as Lexa grabs the tools.

            “Go!” exclaims Monty.

            As he presses the switch, Raven screams as electricity fizzles before ending abruptly. It’s like time turns still and nothing is heard except Raven’s labored breathing until Jasper asks, “What’s happening?”

            When he inspects the EMP device for the problem, Sinclair deduces, “Nothing. We need more power. The battery’s not strong enough.”

            “Well, then get one that is,” Clarke demands.

            “The Rover,” Monty deduces.

            Raven resumes her struggles as Monty runs out of the room. With Bellamy following him, urging Sinclair to hold Raven before he dashes out. Clarke moves to hold down her other leg. Good thing because it’s like she wants to kick me giving her struggling and screaming.

            Everyone jumps when a gunshot is heard outside. The blood pounds in my ears. What was that?

            It only takes mere seconds later for Bellamy and Monty to run in. The latter holding what they needed.

            “Guys, we have to move,” Bellamy exclaims, the urgency undeniable in his tone.

            “Let’s exorcise this A.I out of her!” I exclaim as they connect the battery to the device.

            “Come on,” Clarke urges.

            “Got it,” Sinclair exclaims. When he flips the switch the second time, a hum is heard. Accompanying Raven’s bloodcurdling scream. One that makes your hair stand on end. It finally ends with Raven slumping onto the headboard; her eyes closed.

            “Alright, turn her to her side,” Lexa instructs, her voice shaky and her skin pale as a sheet. “Most of you will have to back away so Clarke could do this without difficulty.”

            Well and I gently turn Raven to her side so that the back of her neck is facing Clarke, who has received the knife from Lexa.

            “Whoa, whoa, who,” Sinclair says in protest.

            “It’s okay,” Clarke assures. “I have seen a A.I. removed before. I know what I’m doing.”

            We watch as Clarke cuts a incision into the base of her neck before pressing a rag just under the incision to collect the blood.

            Everyone stands still as blood pours onto the cloth.

            “This has to work,” agonizes Clarke.

            “It will,” assures Lexa. “Just wait for it.”

            Seconds later, silver deposits are seen flowing out of the incision.

            “What is that?” Bellamy asks. I could swear that Wells’ eyes are popping out as he sees the deposits collect together.

            “It must be whatever’s left of the chip,” Sinclair deduces.

            When the final piece of the chip floats out of the incision, Raven coughs and breathes heavily.

            “Raven?” Wells asks her, relief on his features as she turns herself over and groans in pain.

            “I never thought I would be so happy to see someone in pain,” Octavia says with a smile.

            Though Raven chuckles at the remark, she puts her hand to her neck. Most likely responding to the searing pain brought by the incision.

            “Here, let me help,” I offer, grabbing the bandages from the end table. “Hold still,” I advise, as softly as my mother would say it when she would treat a wound.

            I take the honey paste and gently place it over the bandage to secure it. Clarke takes the Flame and inserts it inside it’s container as Lexa stands next to me.

            “I could have saved my mom,” Monty murmurs from across the room. One could see the defeat and somberness on his face. As if someone he loved just died. Most likely because someone in his family _did_ die. One could tell by the phrasing.

            Jasper, the sympathy obvious on his face walks towards Monty and places his hand on his shoulder. “Hey,” he starts.

            Monty moves away from him and snaps, “Get the hell away from me!”

            He runs from the room with Octavia, Bellamy, Wells, and Jasper looking back after him. “A.L.I.E knows we’re here,” Bellamy points out. “We got to move.”

            I crawl away from the bed as Wells and Sinclair wrap a blanket around Raven’s shoulders. Clarke packs up _fleimkidon_ and the Flame before handing them over to Lexa.

            “Let’s go,” she softly beckons me as she places the Flame in her jacket. Knowing that our minds wouldn’t be safe if we have gotten near A.L.I.E’s chipped minions, Lexa and I follow Bellamy, Wells, Sinclair (who’s holding Raven), and Jasper. With Clarke right behind us.

            The torches illuminate our path in the nighttime darkness. From my peripheral vision, I see that Bellamy stops by the door. As if he’s waiting for Clarke to come out of the building before proceeding.

            “Are you okay, Lexa?” I ask her, knowing that what was said to must have taken a toll on her.

            “I would be lying if I said I was, Costia,” she answers. “I only did one thing right and that was declaring that ceasefire when I received your head or what I thought was your head. Yet, I acted carelessly when I met Clarke. I really thought I was fixing my mistakes that I made with you.”

            “It was not your fault,” I say. “As I said, you don’t need to beat yourself over it. Also, we are no different in terms of seeking unhealthy routes of intimate validation.”

            “What do you mean?” she asks.

            I bite my lip. I should have been honest with her like she was honest with me about Clarke. I sigh. Here it goes. “Well, after I turned sixteen, Roan and I…well, I was hungry for intimacy. He is was the person I felt closest too in my virtual prison.” I swallow hard. “I found comfort in his bed more than once. While the pleasure felt good, there was still a certain hollowness in me. I should have been honest with you.”

            Looking at Lexa for her reaction, there is no sign of accusation in her eyes and face. In fact, Lexa appears sympathetic. She leans in and brushes her lips against mine. The heat rushes to my cheeks as I place my hand on her shoulder.

            I feel tears pricking from my eyes as our lips separate and looking at Lexa, I could see the tears streaming from our eyes. We both thought that we would never touch each other’s lips again.

            “I love you, Costia,” she murmurs. “I don’t want you think for a second that nothing would change that. You were lonely and hungry for intimacy, like I was. It’s true I care for Clarke but it wasn’t the same. It was like applying a bandage on a mortal wound.”

            Behind us, the engine of the Rover purrs to life. I turn to see the Rover slowly pulling forward, with Sinclair a few feet behind it to help guide it back. Raven, who’s now on her feet, though supported by Wells, turns to Lexa. “About the crap I said to you back there, I’m sorry,” she apologizes.

            “No, I deserved every word that was said,” Lexa states somberly. “I should be the one apologizing. Apologizing for my hubris and trust of someone I trusted that would have resulted in your execution if it hadn’t been for Clarke. I said that I would take no pleasure but I was arrogant enough to not suspect that he would go that far to protect me.”

            Raven nods. “Thanks,” she says. “Though, that other stuff, the personal stuff, you didn’t deserve to hear.”

            My best guess was that she meant using Clarke to fill a void that I left. Though, don’t we all do that after we thought that we lost someone that we hold dear? Try filling a gaping hole in our hearts, even if it doesn’t help.

            The Rover stops backing up at Sinclair’s signal and Raven is led to the van with both Wells and Jasper supporting her at either side.

            “Are you sure you’re okay?” Wells asks as Octavia opens the back door to the Rover.

            “Yeah,” she says. Raven turns to Jasper. “I’m so sorry for all the crap I said,” she apologizes.

            “And for punching me in the face, right?” he asks.

            “No,” she answers tiredly. “You definitely deserved that.”

            Carefully, she steps up to the back entrance. Wincing in pain as she does so. “Take it easy,” I advise as I see Clarke and Bellamy approach us.

            I back away, sensing that given Clarke’s approach to Raven, she’s not just going to ask about her wellbeing. “Hey,” she says. “There’s one thing I don’t understand. Why did A.L.I.E. want you to kill yourself?”

            Shuddering at the memory of her ramming the back of her skull against the metal headboard, there is only from explanation. Especially if she was under control of a A.I.

            After a pause, Raven answers, “Because I know why she wants the second A.I.”

            “Why?” asks Bellamy.

            “It’s the only thing that can stop her,” Raven answers.

            Given that Becca’s journal states that she went up in space to work on a secure environment to work on the Flame away from A.L.I.E, it only makes logical sense. Makes logical sense for A.L.I.E. to want possession of it.

            “Then, let’s stop her,” Octavia states. As we look at her, she continues, “We survive together.”

            She looks at Monty, and then Bellamy. Who both nod.

            “Also, we will help you along the way,” Lexa offers.

            Octavia turns to Lexa, as if what she said was blasphemy. “We can tackle this ourselves,” she spits out. “We don’t need your help.”

            The blood reaches to my face. That idiot. Why. It was literally Lexa’s idea about the method to remove remnants of the chip from Raven. Oh, that’s right. She left with Monty to get that circuitry. They know they are tackling a A.I. but we know the extensive history behind it.

            “It was her idea why the chip got removed from your friend in the first place,” I spit out, not caring if the acid dropped from my tone. “Trust me. We were raised with the stories about Becca and why _Praimfaya_ came to be. It was part of our foundation of our culture, so of course we should tag along.”

            “You weren’t there three months ago when she left us to die at Mount Weather,” Octavia accuses.

            Lexa’s face flushes red. “Would you believe that I would betray you a second time, this time to the one that was the reason for _Praimfaya_?” she asks. “Give me a chance to make it up to all of you, please. Second, we don’t have time for this if A.L.I.E. in the form of her chipped minions are heading our way.”

            “I will believe it when I see it,” Octavia scoffs before heading off to the side door of the Rover.

As Raven is carefully lifted into the Rover by Sinclair, Clarke looks at Lexa and assures, “She will come around. Trust me, I know that you wouldn’t betray us this time.”

* * *

 

 ** _Five Years Ago_**           

            The wooden stairs creak under my feet as I’m led to the loft above. The smell of dust catches into my nose as I pass through the entryway after Echo. On both sides of the room are windows letting in the light from outside. Two twin beds are propped against the wall by the window to my left. One of them barren.

“This is the loft,” Echo states as she places the bundle of sheets and quilts on my bed. “I had this to myself until now. That bed was just brought up here this morning.”

Surveying the room, I notice a large wardrobe close by nestled against an intricately carved sled.

“It gets drafty in here on nights, so it’s best to sleep with multiple blankets,” Echo continues as she sets the quilts and furs down on the mattress. “Anyways, I’ll be going to meet with my combat instructor for training. When I’m back, we’ll stop at the clothing cache to get you a few more pieces of clothes. Otherwise it would just be the clothing on your back. Find something around here to fill your spare time. Otherwise, the palace library is open to members of the Royal Guard who are not on patrol shifts.”

I watch as she descends the stairs. There is no way I will step into the palace after today. Any more contact with Queen Nia and I’ll vomit. I look at the bed, at the bundle of quilts and sheets folded on the mattress. Well, I better make myself useful now that I’m not locked up.

I approach the bed and slowly, carefully begin the mundane process of making it. The thin blanket is tucked at the foot first before one adds the thick blanket and so on. The thickest quilt, I apply last. Leaving a fur blanket. Looking over at Echo’s bed, her fur blanket is folded in half at the foot of her bed. Then I decide to do the same.

Once that was done, I sit on the newly made bed before taking off my shoes and lying on my back. Just looking at the panes on the roof. Paying eye to the vertically placing of them until I rub my eyes. My head spinning.

I lean over and glance out the window between our beds. Gazing at the softly falling snow outside before looking down at the ground below. Not too many people commuting on the pathway. Just armed people in white fur laden overcoats.

I pull myself away from the window to avoid being seen before curling up on the bed. Hearing someone moving around in the floor below before closing a door below me.

I don’t know how long it has been since I assumed position here but I find myself dozing off. My body feels weary from the brutality it has endured in the past week, that perhaps a nap would be good for once.

After some time, it’s like slumber pulled me deep into its arms. Time seems meaningless, and I don’t know how much I have slept when I feel a hand shaking my shoulder.

“Eirwen,” Echo says. “Wake up.”

The sound of her voice was enough for my eyes to snap open. Stretching carefully, a yawn escapes my mouth as I sit up. As my eyesight recovers, I see her standing over the bed wearing the same overcoat as a few hours ago. Further reminding me where I’m at.

My heart can’t help but sink at that fact.

“Took a nap?” she asks.

“Well…yeah,” I answer, all I’m coming up with. “I thought I needed it.”

“Your body will get used to the colder climate the longer you are here,” she returns. “Mother is downstairs cooking dinner and we should head to the clothing cache shortly. So, we should be back before dinner is ready and father returns home from the Palace.”

I bite my lip. I really don’t want to leave the loft and be around people, especially people who were part of my enemy. However, she might give me a hard time about possessing just the clothes on my back. So, I follow her down the loft.

 

* * *

 

That night, I drift between being awake and sleep, my mind continually at work. Though I’m no longer on the stone floor of a cell with just a tattered blanket, the bed I’m sleeping on is alien enough that I feel uncomfortable.

            Without a doubt, it’s warm with the layers of quilts and the wool sheets but it’s nothing like my original bed back home.

            Home. The thought of the Trigeda forests, the simplistic log cabins in my village, and just everything about home in particular brings up the tears. Thinking about that wooden box, how long would father find out about my supposed “death”? Is he going to find out tomorrow afternoon or would he be there at the Commander’s Palace when Lexa will receive it?

            I don’t want to imagine father’s scream of pain and anger upon the revelation of my “death” on the hands of Ice Nation, not realizing that it’s someone else’s head. Though Lexa I don’t want to imagine either. The image of her in a sobbing mess on her bed as Anya tries to comfort her is difficult to process.

            As if I have forgotten that I’m not alone in the room, I let the tears flow and my body begins shaking. I want to be home. Trigeda is home. Not Azgeda, my enemy.

            I hear Echo leave her bed from across the room before the bed dips.

            “Eirwen,” she says softly.

            No! That name is just a reminder of everything that has happened in the past five days and I feel by body shake harder with sobs. I feel her fingers run through my hair, as if a elder sister was comforting a miserable young sister.

            “You miss the Woods territory because you were familiar with it,” she tells me. “Ice Nation might not seem home to you but it will over time. We will become your people like they were your people.”

            Azgeda home? I still wish that I was six feet under then alive here. There could be no greater dishonor. Any painful death, I would gladly take.

            I want to give Echo every ounce of vitriol that I have but I feel weary. “I want my mother,” I choke.

            She gives no verbal response but she continues stroking my hair. She then proceeds to hum a tune to a lullaby that I have no recognition of. “ _My sweet child, never fear the freezing cold and furious winds outside. Fall asleep, for you are safe and dream. Dream that you’re running through the White Forest…_ ”


	7. Chapter Seven

            My eyes flutter open when a hand softly nudges my shoulder.

            “Costia, we’re here,” Lexa softly tells me.

            I yawn. It’s been mere hours since we left the trading post. When I was falling asleep, I vaguely heard a mention to return back to Arkadia. That three of their friends were going to come meet us. Despite the fact that it was considered dangerous because of A.L.I.E.

            When my eyes focus on my surroundings, I see that Lexa, Raven, Monty, Wells, and I are the only ones in the jeep. Though Jasper’s legs are the only thing in the Rover.

            “What is going on?” I yawn, as I rub my hands through my hair. “Where are the others?”

            “Outside to see if it’s safe,” Lexa answers, “though since nobody is around but us, it would be.”

            Wait. Nobody is around? Not after we were shot at last night? That’s…bizarre. The jeep comes to a stop and Wells slowly opens the door. Slowly as if he’s afraid someone was still lurking around here.

            Lexa exits through the passenger door, pulling her sword from her sheath as if she was going to kill anyone who shouldn’t be here with us. As I follow her out, I remove a arrow from the quiver and pull the arrow with the bowstring. Like it’s outer shell, the Skaikru home base has a metal interior and from its architecture, it seems extraterrestrial. Something that would be described in a book published before _Praimfaya_.

            Aside from us, there is no one else here. What is eerie is that by examining the table closest to us, there are plates with food still on them. Cards, books, and other sorts of materials left behind. As if the occupants might return any minute.

            That thought raises the hairs on the back of my neck. This doesn’t look good.

            “It’s like they just got up and walked away,” Clarke observes as I lower my arrow and bow.

            “The set up is very surreal, if I’m honest,” Lexa agrees, though I can see that she’s pale as a sheet. “They always say that abandoned places should be avoided.”

            “That’s why we’ll be in and out,” Bellamy replies as he approaches us. “Pack as much gear as you can into the Rover.”

            “I’ll get the map,” Octavia dictates before walking away.

            “I’ll go with her,” Jasper says as he begins to follow her. “No one should be alone.”

            No one wants to be alone in this eerie setting. Abandoned places where things were left like the occupants would come back to them are the perfect places for the depraved to hide.

            “You don’t want to load gear, huh?” Sinclair asks as Jasper walks away.

            “Not even a little,” he answers before exiting the room.

            Raven turns to us and asks, “What’s the rush? They won’t be coming back.”

            “How do you know?” Clarke asks.

            “A.L.I.E’s mission is to chip everyone,” Raven answers. “It wouldn’t make sense to return to a place she already took. “

            “It might make sense if there was someone in that place. i.e, you, who could tell us stuff like that,” Sinclair notes.

            “Good point,” Raven says. “Let’s load gear.”

            As we separate, a chill goes through my body as a terrible feeling sets in. Raven said that the A.I’s mission was to chip everyone. That it wouldn’t make sense for a place she already took. If they left here, then…no, she couldn’t have. She can’t possibly –

            “Your father was among the controlled, right?” Lexa asks Wells.

            He nods, his features grim. “Yes,” he answers. “It’s like he was the preacher A.L.I.E. assigned. He was passing the chips like candy.”

            “Are there any places you could think of that he would go to?” I ask as Bellamy picks up a metallic item.

           “I’m not sure since I was in Mount Weather for three weeks before the genocide,” Wells answers. “All I know was what I was told that he was imprisoned with Kane somewhere before the truce and that he left with twelve people before returning back three months later.”

            Though it’s like nothing could be deduced from his statement, Lexa’s emerald eyes widen. Like something about it horrifies her. “He’ll be going to Polis,” she whispers.

            We all look to her. “Polis?” Raven asks her.

            “That’s where he was imprisoned, yes,” Lexa answers, turning to her as Bellamy walks forward. “Someone from the Dead Zone answered to the bounty on Skaikru before the massacre. I released him to send a message before the truce was made.”

            It’s like the blood is drained as I process the possibility. Roan and Echo were in Polis, last time I knew. Unless the former left to search for Clarke and I. If they are chipped, I swear to –

            “Polis wouldn’t be an option, Lexa,” Clarke tries to assure her as Raven looks at the Commander’s Journal. “Polis isn’t a safe place right now for any of my people with Ontari sitting on the throne.”

            “A.L.I.E doesn’t know that, Clarke,” Lexa points out.

            “Let’s quit talking and pack up gear,” Bellamy says as Clarke processes the fact. “I’m going to look around.”

           I unlatch the fasteners of my overcoat as he leaves and peel it off my torso as the others work around us. Lexa and I try to make ourselves useful, picking up things that might seem useful. Though Monty and Wells try to help us sort between rift raft and what we need.

            A few minutes into collecting gear, we hear Bellamy’s voice over a radio. “Everyone, finish what you’re doing and meet me in the armory,” he states.

            Lexa and I perk up as Clarke picks up the radio. “Why? What’s going on?” she asks.

            “You’ll see when you get here,” he answers. “We just got lucky.”

            Though one could interpret it either way, usually when one wants you to see something, it’s not usually good. I hope I’m wrong.

            “On our way,” Clarke answers. She approaches the door –

            “Wait,” Raven exclaims, not tearing away from the book. “Leave A.L.I.E-2.”

            Her words cause us to freeze in place as Lexa raises her eyebrow incredulously.

            “Why?” Clarke asks.

            “I think I know how to activate it,” Raven offers.

            “Without a Nightblood?” Lexa asks, like the proposition is too out of this world to conceive. Personally, I don’t know why one would. It’s been two centuries.

            “You read the Journal, right?” Raven asks her.

            Lexa nods. “We all had to before the Conclave,” Lexa answers. “To know the intricacies about the Flame and its history. What page makes you think so?”

            Raven passes the open Journal to Lexa. “The section with the codes for activation using a spoken passphrase,” Raven answers as Lexa examines the contents of the page.

            After a second, Lexa says, “I recognize the codes to activate the Flame for the ascension and the code to deactivate when one has stepped down or killed.”

            “Do you know what they are?” Raven asks as Clarke takes out the Flame and hands it to Sinclair. Who secures the Flame on a metal device.

            Lexa turns to the Flame. Looking at it intently before stepping forward to face it. “ _Ascende Superius_ ,” Lexa commands.

            The Flame lights up as it’s tendrils exit from it’s base. Clarke, Sinclair, Monty, Wells, and Raven look at it transfixed. Raven picks up a set of pliers and positions it to extract the Flame. It responds by retracting it’s tendrils and turning off.

            “What happened?” Clarke asks as Raven leans forward to the Flame.

            “ _Ascende Superius_ ,” Raven commands.

            The Flame activates once more and when Raven leans towards it, Lexa and Clarke rush to her. “Oh, hey, no!” Clarke exclaims as they pull her away. The Flame deactivates simultaneously.

            “It’s like it sensed your mind,” Wells theorizes.

            “The Flame deactivates when it senses it might be compromised,” Lexa corrects before turning to Raven. “You have to have the blood to take the Flame. Otherwise, your brain would be liquefied.”

            “Okay, there must be a way to access the code then,” Sinclair says hopefully.

            “There’s not,” Raven points out. Didn’t take her long, did it? “Until we find it a host, we don’t know how to stop A.L.I.E.”

            Clarke removes the Flame from the metallic contraption and says, “Then let’s find it a host. Come on. Bellamy’s waiting. So is Luna.”

            “That is if she accepts the offer,” I point out.

            “She will,” Clarke dictates before taking off with both Wells and Monty behind her.

 

            Twenty minutes into Clarke’s, Wells’, and Monty’s absence, we hear Bellamy urgently call from the radio. “Jasper, are you there? Say something.”

            Lexa stops what she’s doing and looks at the radio. It got Raven’s attention too, as she’s looking at it with concern. Judging by Bellamy’s tone, something is horribly wrong. It shouldn’t be surprising given the abandoned state this infrastructure is in.

            Hands shaking, I pick up the radio and hand it to Raven. “I think he needs to hear one of us,” I advise. “Something might be wrong.”

            “It most likely is wrong since this place looks like everyone left and might return,” Lexa points out as Raven takes the radio.

            “Bellamy, what’s wrong?” she asks.

            “Raven, are you okay?” he asks. “Where are you?”

            Somebody we don’t want is obviously here, given by the tone of his voice. Not good.

            “Still in engineering,” she answers. “We’re fine.”

            “Raven, listen to me,” Clarke begs. “Emerson is here. Are the others with you?”

            The name sends a jolt through me as Lexa’s eyes widened in bewilderment. Given what I heard from him before Mount Weather exploded, there is a reason why he’s here and it’s not good. Lexa and Clarke should have taken his life when they had the chance.

            To put it effectively, Roan should have gave the go-ahead for his execution instead of sending him as a gift to Clarke and Lexa to reaffirm Azgeda’s loyalty to the Coalition. We could have just sent the parasite’s bloody corpse instead

            “Negative,” Raven answers. “It’s only me, Sinclair, Lexa, and Costia here.” Raven hesitates, like she’s backtracking to the information that was said before that question. “Mount Weather Emerson?”’ 

            “Yes,” Clarke answers. “Okay, lock up the hangar bay, don’t let anyone in but us.”

            Lexa’s chest heaves as Sinclair moves to lock the door. “This is my fault,” she murmurs. “I should have listened to Clarke when she first called for his execution before she backpedaled at the last minute.”

            So that’s what happened. Clarke wanted him dead but didn’t as to honor “Blood Must Not Have Blood.”

            After the door closes shut, Sinclair advises, “Stay here. I’ll lock the door.” as he runs towards the other door, he asks, “Is this guy Emerson chipped?”

            “He wasn’t as of yesterday,” Raven answers.

            It’s clear what he wants. He’s going to kill everyone he associates with the Mount Weather genocide before he kills himself. Or that’s what he told me while in a drunken stupor that late December night, two weeks after Ermine was born.

            Sinclair presses the button to close the other door before rushing back.

            “He wants revenge,” Raven finally deduces.

            The lights go out. I could feel cold sweat running down my neck along with the sound of Lexa hyperventilating.

            “Raven?” Sinclair asks before she shushes him.

“He’s here,” Raven says. “He’s inside the hangar bay.”

            Raven grunts as she’s struck by a metallic object. Urgently, I feel for a blunt object in the pitch darkness, knowing that our attacker must be wearing night vision gear. I hear the sound of Lexa grunting as she wields something to fight Emerson just as my hand feels a metallic object.

            My heart races as I feel its length. Long and thin. Might not be effective but it could be useful. I pick it up as I hear Lexa groan before I hear a soft thud on the floor.

            No. He didn’t just – No!

            Raven is calling for Sinclair to open the door manually as something meets my tool. I push against it, hoping to knock him off balance with the pressure. I aim my foot in the dark but I feel him pulling it towards him knocking me off balance. I reach for my makeshift weapon –

            Something hits the side of my head and I slump into darkness.

 

* * *

 

**_Five Years Ago_ **

            The aroma of eggs, potatoes, and ham awakes me the next morning and I have forced myself out of bed just when Echo has started changing into her set of clothes. She dashes down the stairs just as I pushed my feet into my boots and I follow her a minute after.

            I don’t say a word as I serve myself breakfast, wishing to not bring attention to myself for my sobs could have been heard downstairs last night. Scarfing down the potatoes, scrambled eggs, and ham silently as they engage in morning talk.

            “ _Prepared for your first day in the White Forest?_ ” he asks me.

            I tighten my grip on my fork; preventing it from slipping from my grip and clattering to the hardwood floor. Personally, I would rather rot then spend time with more _Azkru_. Though it’s not wise to say so to the head of the Royal Guard.

            I shrug. “ _Patrolling areas is nothing new for me_ ,” I just simply put forth.

            “ _To give you an idea, you do more than patrol_ ,” he states. “ _I could give you a list but I will leave that to your division supervisor to explain_.”

When my plate as cleared, I shrug on a overcoat before stretching on my gloves.

            “ _Don’t take those off_ ,” I’m told. “ _You don’t want to accidentally slice your finger. We can’t have people talk_.”

            Because word of a Nightblood would disembody the ruse that I’m dead. I follow both Johann and Echo out the door, with Echo saying, “ _Good luck. I’m all ears during dinner_.”

            Good luck. She’s only known me for a day, yet I know she’s only being cordial because Roan asked her to. I just curtly nod and follow her father down the pathway.

            “ _For the junior division, patrol divisions function differently than the adult division_ ,” he explains. “ _They go on their patrol shifts in either the morning or afternoon, with a session for combat training before or after a shift. Therefore, you will be at your division supervisor’s disposal for those times of the day. Combat trainers can be of any rank, as they just have to be a adult. In your case, choosing your combat mentor will be done with care considering your special circumstances_.”

            Choosing my combat mentor with care simply because I bleed black. If that doesn’t make my skin crawl, I don’t know what does. There are only a handful of people in _Azgeda_ that saw me bleed black and the odds are not good.

            “ _Therefore, after lunch, you will report to the palace and someone will send for you to meet your combat mentor_ ,” he explains.

            The palace, the last place I want to be. Please, someone kill me before the day is over.

 

* * *

 

            Due to the frigid temperatures, transportation to the White Forest was by an enclosed wagon. The reasoning was that there was no point in patrol if we got there frozen like icicles. I would gladly take hypothermia then sitting here with four others.

            Especially since the one across from me seems to have painted a target on my back.

            “ _I got a question: what’s so special that you got to stay with the head of the Royal Guard and his family?_ ” he spits out.

            “ _Shut up, Orion_ ,” snaps a red haired girl that’s seated next to me.

            “ _It’s a legitimate question, Freya_ ,” he presses, still glaring at me. “ _First she’s a political prisoner from one of the opposing clans and all of the sudden, she has a spot in the Royal Guard. While we sleep in dormitories in the Royal Guard housing, she’s residing in the home of the Royal Guard and his family. What is next? Does she have the Queen as her combat trainer?_ ”

            The thought of that frigid bitch teaching me sends all the blood reaching into the surface of my skin. “ _Say another word or you’ll be wishing you kept your front teeth_ ,” I threaten.

            “ _Oh_ ,” he says as he smirks. “ _Is that a challenge, blight? Because I can give you one before lunch._ ”

            Jumping me? Seriously? When they don’t want me to bleed around lower ranking members of the guard. I hate to do this but if I want him to back off–

            “ _If the Queen ever becomes my combat trainer and you end up winning the challenge, you have to explain why_ ,” I threaten. “ _From what I know of the Queen so far, I doubt she will take it nicely if one of her charges wouldn’t be able to walk first day of training_.”

            The words get the desired effect. He leans back, not saying a word though he still scowls at me.

            “ _Don’t push it with him_ ,” Freya whispers to me. “ _He can get nasty after he sulks_.”

            Then he’s going to be a problem then.

 

* * *

 

            Upon arrival at our destination, the term “White Forest” couldn’t be any clearer. The pine needles on the snow dusted evergreen trees are coated in ice. On the trunks of the trees and those surrounding it, it’s like nature decided to have her artistic will with the icicles, like she curved them around the trunks.

            The deep snow and the surroundings itself did not fail to take my breath away despite that I’m mentally in a dark place. So beautiful. Like it’s Christmas all year round. Yet even the beautiful things are dangerous.

            From a distance, one could hear the sound of roaring water. I suddenly recall that it might have been faint last time I heard it, and that I might have mistaken it as part of the wind. I turn my head to find the source and from a distance, it’s like water is spilling over from a hilltop and filling the lake below it. It only took me a few seconds to realize that what I was seeing is what the people before Praimfaya coined the Niagara Falls. A few pictures of her survived for one hundred and ninety-five years after the bombs.

            A pair of hands touches my shoulders and I’m steered back with the group. Two of the Guard approach us after one of them spots our supervisor – Levi, Johann said his name was – and the rest of us. I notice that they all have white fur adorned to their overcoats. The white fur is most likely a status thing. To signify them as the Royal Guard.

            The first man opens his mouth to say something before he eyes me standing a few feet away from four of the others. He turns to Levi and observes, “ _You have one extra then the additional two that are supposed to be here for today’s security detail_.”

            “ _The Queen happened to find someone to fill that empty spot left by Wilhelm_ ,” Levi replies. He clasps a big hand on my shoulder and continues, “ _This is Eirwen, Jakob. Just joined the division yesterday_.”

            Joined? More like forcefully drafted. Jakob’s companion steps forward and grabs my jaw before forcing my teeth open. I strongly resist the urge to bite at him.

            “ _Not familiar enough to be from here but I vaguely remember a familiar face in Polis_ ,” he states, finally withdrawing his hand. “ _Does the Woods Clan General realize that his little blight is all the way up here in the White Forest? She’s awfully far from home_.”

            Though he didn’t mention Lexa, the mention of my father sends a jolt through my body. I glare at him as the blood reaches the surface of my face. He just rubbed salt in my freshly opened wounds.

            “ _The Queen has that taken care of_ ,” Levi explains to him. “ _Therefore, I wouldn’t expect any trouble._ ”

            Well, father didn’t launch a attack against the Capitol when Salem’s head was delivered to us, so he is technically correct. _Azgeda_ is lucky that my father is the military leader of my clan. As father said to me, “A warrior knows when to keep his or her emotions in check.”

            They think Lexa will launch an attack against _Azgeda_ in retaliation of my capture but she wouldn’t. Not just because of her plans to end the war with _Azgeda_ but because she knew it would be a disservice to me.

            “ _What do you want her to do, then?_ ” asks the second person.

            “ _Patrol the east end of the forest_ ,” Levi answers. “ _Thought I would start her there with Orion_.”

            Wow. I’m definitely not going to die before lunch begins.

            When I was directed to my location, Orion thought to bump his shoulder into my shoulder blade. Causing me to stumble and nearly fall towards a tree; inciting some chuckles in the process. Though Freya is one of the few that don’t laugh.

            When I regain my footing, I give him a scowl. Anyone who pushes me around will regret it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rest assured, Lexa and Costia are not dead.


End file.
